Kindred
by sweetprincipale
Summary: When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred', he was doing more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully...
1. Part I

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all..._

Part I

Spike sat up at the sound of scuffling coming from outside his crypt. Door sliding back slowly, but not at all stealthily. That'd be- he sniffed. Finn. Slayer threw the door open like she owned the bloody place. Other demons crept past and hoped he wouldn't notice- or they sniffed around loudly, cursing his name. The Watcher made his presence known with a throat-clearing every soddin' time. "Well, well." Spike leveled the crossbow at the entrance and saw the boy entering, looking furtive. As if. "You can take the boy out of the Initiative, but you can't take the Initiative out of the boy."  
Finn glared. "I'd put that down, unless you're bucking for one hell of a headache."

Damn chip. He put the bow down. "I can't be too careful. I got quite a few demons after me these days."  
"I'm looking for some information. Might pay a little.  
He shrugged. Money was always useful. Money from this one- one of the few types of revenge available. He sank into his chair. "I'll play."  
"What can you tell me about Dracula?"  
"Dracula?" he scoffed. "Poncy bugger owes me eleven pounds, for one thing." He slipped a smoke between his lips, loving the way the boy's eyes narrowed in disbelief. Always fun to wind this one up.

"You know him?"  
"Know him? We're old rivals." He clicked his lighter open and sighed into the first puff. "But then he got famous, forgot all about his foes. I'll tell you what. That glory hound's done more harm to vampires than any slayer. His story gets out, and suddenly everybody knows how to kill us. You know, the mirror bit?"  
Riley lost the moment of being impressed, shaking his head as if he could weed out unwanted information like old gambling debts. "But he's not just a regular vampire. I mean, he has special powers, right?"  
"Nothing but showy gypsy stuff. What's it to you, anyway?"  
"He's in town. Making his presence known."  
"Drac's in Sunnydale-way? I guess the old boy needed closure after all." He propped his feet up on the footstool, looking a bit smug.  
"Actually, he's gunning for Buffy. But I'm out to find him before he gets another shot at her." He sat as well.

"Tough talk, cowboy. But you're not gonna catch him napping in a crypt. No, the count has to have his luxury estate and his bug-eaters and his special dirt, don't he?"  
"So you're saying I should check out mansions, that sort of thing?"  
"No." He stood, smirking in a way that he knew would irritate the soldier before him. "I'm saying ... you should go home to your superhoney. Have a nice, safe snog. You're out of your depth on this one, boy." He turned his back. Nice to do a bit of emasculatin', return the favor for neuterin' him, at least in the fang-capacity. Once turned, his smirk faded.

"You've helped Buffy before, so she has a problem with killing you now that you're helpless. _I _don't." Riley bit off the threat.  
Spike turned back to face him. "I'd like to see you try." _Wait. No… That's not a prudent thing to think, is it? Bloody hell._ Spike refused to be cowed as Riley rose, face inches from his.  
"Would you?"

Refusin' to be intimidated was one thing, getting dusted by a loser like that? Not on. "Pfft." He looked away as if he didn't care. Riley walked to the door and slammed through it as Spike called out, "You're never gonna find him." The door shut with an echoing crash.  
"Not before he gets to her," the vampire murmured to himself once he was alone. And that… bothered him. No one had ever turned a Slayer. _That must be what he's after. One of the brides, one of the three… That's what he's after. _

Well now. Wouldn't that be fun to see? Little blonde slayer, now reduced to a vamp, all clingy and draped in bits of red and gauze, dependent on the immortal poofter and his shiny hair and his chalky skin.

It was the first time he'd ever thought of vampires as inferior in anyway.

He panted, disgust crossing his features. First for himself. Then for her.

He wouldn't even fight her. He'd _trick _her. That was worse, somehow.

_No, this one couldn't be tricked. Too resourceful._ Spike lit one cig from the end of his first. _It'll be fine. Why do I care? _

_I don't want her to be used like that._

_Of course I do!_

_No. Used, abused, thrown about- fine. If it's a fight. If it's me. _

_Oh, hell. Not even if it's me._

_Something is wrong, so very wrong._

_An' what am I gonna do about it?_

_Keep out of it, that's what._

* * *

Fog drifted into her room. A breeze that was chilly, far too cold for a warm California night brushed over her sheets, across her face. Buffy sat up with a gasp, pained and startled.

Dracula stood at the foot of her bed, blue eyes gleaming, an almost reverent smile on his face, long clever finger shaping the air as white lips framed the words. "You are magnificent."  
Wide-eyed and pulling out the banter as she slid her hands for a stake, " I bet you say that before you bite all the girls."  
"No, you are different. _Kindred_." His words rolled, all of them, and her hand froze.  
"Kindred? Hardly, I-" she stammered, trying to find out where her words had gone and finding her brain hazy.

"Pull your hair back." Tongue dipped and indented the command and she obeyed, a look of surprise on her face.

_Why did I do that? I don't do that! He's totally checking out my neck._

"This isn't how I … usually fight." Her eyes darted- but it was a slow dart. _Something is off. And wrong. And wow, pull it back together. _"You think you can just waft in here with your music video wind and your hypno-eyes…" _Oh. Hypnosis. Yep. That's what it is. I bet. _

"I have searched the world over for you. I have yearned for you."

_Or maybe he knows all the right things to say._

He sat on the bed next to her and she barely even flinched.

"Searched for a creature whose darkness rivals my own." He puts his hand on her chin and moved her head tenderly to the side. She could feel his eyes on her bite. Angel's bite. His fingertips traced over it, almost lovingly. "You have been tasted." He smiled at her, a little intimate smile, fingertips caressing her cheek.

She was trying to keep her voice steady. "He was-"  
He cut her off. "Unworthy."

_Why? How? First love, warrior with a soul, who is more worthy?_

_Then why'd he leave? Why isn't he here, touching your cheek and saying he's been searching for me and oh holy shit, something bad is happening._

"He let you go." Blue eyes locked on flecked green.

_He looks sorry for me. Smug. No- happy. 'Cause he's getting me instead._

_There will be _no _getting of me!_

"But the embrace ... his bite ... you remember."

"No." The conviction in her voice came out as- thoroughly unconvincing. She shouldn't find herself sinking into his cool touch, but he was touching again, just easing his skin to hers.

"Do not fight." A surprisingly gentle, insistent voice.' Fingers wrapped around her neck, tenderly. " I can feel your hunger."

_I am hungry. I don't want to be dinner! Opposite end of the hungry, here. What am I hungry for? Can't place it…  
_She knew it was coming, she had a stake within reach, and she didn't even stop him. _I have to know. I have to know what he knows. That's what I'm hungry for. Why am I kindred to them?_

His fangs sank in, slowly, gently, without any hurry. She didn't pull away.

* * *

Later…

Riley's suspicion stood out all over him like spines. She tried to hide the bite. Red flag. Willow spouted out pages of information about Dracula, his preference to feed on victims he had a deep connection with, his ability to forge deep connections. Buffy blanked on all of them, answered the negatory in short syllables. Red flag two. Giles, brightest, weirdest demonology guy he knew pointed out that the end results of these intimate seductions was the same. Woman was turned. _His_ woman would be turned, and she didn't seem angry about it. Red flags three through infinity.

Giles' words rang in his head. "She must want to be taken. She must… burn for him."

Her response? "That's interesting. I'm gonna go find him."

He tried to reason it away. She had transference from Angel. She was under a thrall.

It didn't change the fact that when Riley and Giles went to confront him, believing Buffy to be safely in the protection of Xander and Anya, that she was already in there with him.

* * *

"I knew you'd come." He smiled, quietly pleased.  
"Why? Because I'm under your thrall?" This time the stake was ready, in her hand. Her mind cleared as if seeing sunlight through fog. "Well, guess again, pal."  
"Put the stake down."  
"Okay." Wait. What? "Right. That ... was not ... you. I did that. I did that because ... I wanted to.  
He looked on, contentedly watching her as she grew more and more nervous. "Maybe I should rethink that thrall thing."

He moved from the head of the inordinately long banquet table.  
"Stay away from me," she warned, wishing her voice was more commanding.

"Are you afraid I will bite you?" He looked confused, amused. "Slayer, that's why you came."

But it wasn't for the bite. It was for the knowing part. _What is a Slayer? What am I? What's _in _me? _"No. Last night ... it's not gonna happen again."

"Stop me. Stake me." He invited the attack, hands spread, completely at ease.

She wanted to. "I... Any minute now." _But I don't want to kill him. I want to know what he knows. _Then, _I'll kill him._

"Do you know why you cannot resist?

" 'Cause you're famous?"

"Because you do not want to."

_He was right- sort of. Not about the biting. The knowing. Dammit, why do people always want something out me? _"My friends-"

"They're here." He read her startled glance accurately. She didn't want them to see her weakness. She relied on them- but they relied on her as well, relied on her to be some bastion of good. But there is darkness there, she can feel it. "They will not find us. We are alone."

He was close enough to touch her. "Always alone."

_No. Wait. I don't want to be alone. Slayers are alone. I want to be alone _with _someone._ The tension grew on her face. "There is so much I have to teach you. Your history, your power ... what your body is capable of…"

The way he said that last bit made her stomach quail. _Okay, here's where I get off. Power, yes. History, sure. You touch my body and you'll be filling up an urn in minutes._ "I don't need to know."

"You long to. And you will have eternity to discover yourself."

Longing. Discovering. Flashes of bodies tangling, hers and Angel's, hers and Riley's. She was still locked. They hadn't found the secrets. She didn't want this guy to, either. But… She didn't move. Knowledge is power, words from old songs in school drifted back to her.

" But first ... a little taste."

"I won't let you."

"I didn't mean for me."

Again with the chorus of wait, what? She watched him bare an arm, rolling up a sleeve to show sinewy white skin with dark little hairs. _That's not the arm I wanted. _

_Well, what the hell does that mean?_ "What are you-

"All those years fighting us. Your power so near to our own... " He made a scratch, fingernail crossing the skin and raising a fine line of blood. "- and you've never once wanted to know what it is that we fight for? Never even a taste?" His arm was offered.

There should be disgust and repulsion. Instead, curiosity. "If I drink that-

"I have not drunk enough for you to change. You must be near death to become one of us. And that comes only when you plead for it."

_Like he knows I will. I won't. That isn't what I'll plead for. I'll never ask for that. _"I'm not hungry."

"No. Your craving goes deeper than that." They locked eyes. He whispered to her, a guide's whisper, a lover's whisper. "You think you know ... what you are ... what's to come. You haven't even begun." He offered her the taste. She wasn't near death. Safe to drink.

_I will find what I'm looking for- the knowledge. The source of my power._

She kissed the line of blood, wrapping her tongue around it to pull it into her mouth.

He breathed out the words, hand reaching for her hair. "Find it. The darkness. Find your true nature."

Her closed eyes flew open. Fighting. Running. Not away from, always _to_ the battle. Endlessly, tirelessly, ready to seek and destroy the evil. The First Slayer was there, roaming, raging, pouring power through the ages into her.

And never really feeling comfortable with herself. In the moment, there was the blood cry, and after- the confusion. Never really satisfied. There she was, all the light, the warrior of good- and she felt like she belonged in the dark sometimes, fighting, brawling, raging, a thing to be feared, a thing with power.

_But it ain't his and I'm not letting him turn it to his use. _Her head pulled up slowly. "Wow."

He looked satisfied, knowing.

She loved it when they looked pleased before she attacked. The huntress knows her prey. Her prey is cocky. That's why it's fun to take down. She jerked her hands away from his arm and onto his chest, flinging him back, sliding him down the table as the look of shock bloomed on his face. How gratifying.

"_That_ was gross."

"You are resisting."

"Looks like."

"Come here. Come to me." He beckoned her.

"You know, I really think the thrall has gone out of our relationship. But I want to thank you for opening up my eyes a little."

"What is this?"

"My true nature. You want a taste?"

She fought him hard. She realized in seconds that she was fighting herself, too. Something was off. Unsatisfied.

The hunger. She had received only partial knowledge. She killed him, she staked him two times, and he kept reforming, fading before he could be taken thrice, fading to her whisper of "How do you like my darkness now?"

It wasn't a clean kill. He had disappeared, but he wasn't gone for good.

Neither was the hunger.

* * *

Riley rushed in. Dracula was gone. Blood was on her lips. Was it from him landing a blow, or her sucking face with the undead prince? Was it- something else? He shuddered. "You okay?"

She smiled widely, so sunnily beautiful. "Chock-full of free will."

* * *

Something was wrong. She couldn't sleep. She had complete free will, yes. She _wanted_ to do every action she undertook.

Like showing up at Giles' flat at the crack of dawn.

He let her come in, telling her that he had to talk to her anyway, but letting her speak first.

She took a deep breath and began. "Ever since we did that spell where we called on the First Slayer ... I've been going out a lot. Every night.  
Giles looked mildly surprised. "Patrolling?"  
"Hunting. That's ... what Dracula called it." She had to get up. She felt too hot. Her skin was too tight. "And he was right. He understood my power better than I do. He saw darkness in it." She paced.

Giles looked concerned. Something more than her words was upsetting him.  
She sat abruptly, desperately. "I need to know more. About where I come from, about the other slayers. I mean, maybe ... maybe if I could learn to control this thing, I could be stronger, I could be better. But ... I'm scared. I know it's gonna be hard. And I can't do it ... without you. I need your help. I need you to be my Watcher again. And… I need you to help me take whatever darkness I have and use it for something good. No- don't tell me it's not really dark. I- I started to feel it."

Giles hesitated. "Buffy, of course I'll be your Watcher. Forever, if you need me that long. And as your Watcher, I must first tell you that darkness is a power to be used. You've heard of fallen angels?"

"Huh? I mean, yeah, but-"

"Dear, there are beings of light who used that power for evil. There are more who used it for good. You- you have a touch of dark in so much brilliance. You needn't fear that."

Momentarily reassured, Buffy sighed and sank back, only to start yanking on her sleeves and lifting her hair as if feverish.

It was his turn to pace. "I do think there maybe something else we should concern ourselves with."

"What?" Buffy rubbed her neck distractedly.

"Buffy, did Dracula use any terms with you such as - well, let me see… Mine? Child? Bride? Wife?"

"Eww! Giles- what in the-"

"Oh, silly, really. He's not the typical vampire, as you well know. He does form these incredibly close bonds with those he wishes to turn, and he lays groundwork to keep them bespelled, as it were."

"Well, I killed him. Mainly."

"Yes, yes, and if you had been called by any of those possessive terms, that would break almost all ties. Some might remain, but thank God, he never attempted to get you to embrace him as one of his family, his kin."

Buffy's head jerked back. "What?"

"You've heard the term sires, of course. In Dracula's peculiar family tree, he has sired many, but he creates differentiation among them. Some are considered children, he acts as patriarch. Some he considers wives or brides, they are to- uh- well- romantic intimacies-"

"Moving on." Buffy paled.

"Mine is a word that indicates possession in general, or saying that you'll soon be a daughter, a family member. Those are words of ownership and not easily broken."

"But they can be?"

"Oh, absolutely. In theory."

"Which is it?" Buffy reared back from the couch, throwing herself upright so suddenly that he halted in his own pacing to catch her as she came unsteadily to her feet. "I need to know, can it be broken or are there are only theories that it can be?"

"Dracula is rare, but there are some rules he abides by in the vampiric code, and some that are specific

"Explain?"

"Ah- the deep connection itself. Most vampires simply feed. He wants reciprocation. For example, not only would he bite a victim of choice, he'd make sure the victim asked for further exchanges of blood, offering to be bitten again, asking him to bite, or willingly feeding from him."

Buffy made a sick whimper. "I have a question. Don't freak, okay?"

"Oh dear Lord," He took off his glasses in preparation.

"Kindred- that means you think the same way? Like kindred spirits?"

His mouth hung open, no sounds coming out. Even gobsmacked, he managed to look dignified, a professor frozen in mid-lecture. "It can."

"Ca it mean something else?"

"It can mean one's family. One's clan, tribe, or blood relative."

"Shit."

"Shit, indeed. What did he-"

"He said I was kindred! I thought he meant we had stuff in common!"

"He claimed you as family!"

"Seeing that now."

"Then he bit you!"

"Yes, two little neck holes say you're right again," Buffy gasped nervously.

"But you- did you? You didn't?"

"He told me I would finally know the source of my power. Why I have to hunt. Why I am… like I am," Buffy confessed in a broken-sounding whisper. Ashamed. "He cut his arm and I… I'm so sorry, I was so stupid, I-"

"This is my fault. I should have insisted we continue to train and study last year. I failed as your Watcher and now- you're connected to Dracula until we break the bond." Giles raked his graying hair back with a short, sharp gesture that spoke volumes of anger and loathing, all aimed at himself. "It's all right, Buffy. It can be broken. We just need to do it soon. Dracula has left this place and I'm sure he's very weak right now, staked twice, but in a few weeks, maybe a month at most, he could come back and try to reassert his hold over you. Whether he succeeds remains to be seen-"

"But why risk seeing it? Very with you. So what do we do? A de-invite from my subconscious or something?"

"I have to look, but- in theory, a powerful vampire can break another's hold simply by creating a stronger bond. Dracula didn't- didn't do anything besides bite you, did he?"

"He put me in a spooky absence of my own will state."

"Should a vampire claim you as kindred, bite you twice, share blood with you twice, and complete some deeper act of intimacy, that should break the spell. And then, that vampire releases his ownership of you."

"Whoa. Back up. Ownership?"

"Buffy, I know the term is unpalatable-"

"It's like slavery, Giles."

"And they are demons, Buffy. They do enslave you. If he were to make you his bride, you would be enslaved to his whims, whatever they were. But you and he-?"

"He touched me. My face, my cheek, like he wanted to kiss me, but he didn't. He bit me instead. I'm glad that's all it was."

They both shuddered.

"Thank heavens we have Angel on our side," Giles headed to the phone. "He'll be pleased to help, I'm sure."

Biting. Intimate. Her skin burned first with missing him, love, and lust, and then dread. "Riley's going to freak with a capital F."

"It wasn't as if you'd asked the fancy gypsy with his castles and nuzzling she-demons to land in Sunnydale."

"He hates Angel. So much."

"I'm not dead keen on him myself." He flipped through some papers on his cluttered desk and handed the phone to her as he concluded dialing. "I'll accompany you to LA. Riley needn't know."

"I can't keep huge secrets like this from my- Hi, Angel?"

* * *

Giles left the room, but still heard the conversation, at least in part.

"Yes, the real Dracula. Thrall, party cape, eyes you would die for- no! Angel, I'm not- Why does everyone say I have transference issues?"

Stomping in a circle. "Look, can you help me? He called me kindred and bit me. No, I didn't know! Well, I know now!"

Stomping. Edges of berating, a muffled, male voice in full exasperation. Angel seemed to speak more loudly and clearly to Buffy after their relationship than in the entire duration of it, Giles mused as he made a fresh pot of tea.

"He bit me once, I drank once, so if you could just bite me two times and-" Her voice died away as muffled exclamations and berating filled the air. "I didn't know!" Her voice came back with a vengeance. "Kindred isn't the first word I use when I think of family. I use the word 'family' like a normal person! Can you do it? It should be over in a few minutes, less even. We have to have some other act of intimacy, Giles said. We could kiss or something. Nothing major, don't wig. Oh, and you have to call me a possessive name and then let me go when it's all done. That breaks the bond and he'll never spin my head again. Okay?" _Dracula will never spin my head again. But Angel doing this will put it on permanent rotate. _Her lower lip crumpled and she forced it back to set, thankful Giles couldn't see her.

He waited tensely. He heard the reluctance in her voice. "Sure… sure, I'll be at Giles' for a little bit. You think it over."

Giles heard the phone go back into its charging stand and he emerged to see a rather confused looking young woman. "He's arranging things?"

"He's thinking about arranging. But um- this is weird. I know Angel can't do it."

Giles sighed deeply. "I feared as much, Buffy. The temptation to give into something beyond biting and intimacy… Well, to increase the level of intimacy…" he trailed off. He read the lore. Bites could become sexual, at least for the vampire. Maybe for those being bitten, getting off on the rush. Sexual pleasure with Buffy could start a chain reaction of desire that left Angel soulless- and oh, horrors. She'd 'belong' to him during that time, presuming he called her his kindred or bride- oh that would shatter any hope she had of moving on- before biting and any subsequent sexual pleasure. Then, once changed to his evil form, he could command her to do any number of unspeakable things, and though she could resist, it would be painful and there'd be little guarantee of him releasing her without a fight. She shouldn't have to go through this again.

"That's a problem, too. But now… When Dracula bit me, he-he touched my scar. From where Angel bit me when Faith shot him?"

"Yes?" Giles looked mildly perplexed.

"He told me that I had been tasted. And the one who did it- was unworthy. He'd left me." _Yeah. _I'm _not the unworthy one._ Buffy shook her head. "Look, I don't know why I get this weird gut-feeling, but I do. Angel can't do it. Not because he's tempted- I know he'd overlook that, but I think it's because Dracula called him unworthy. I don't get how I know, but-"

"The residual, weak bond between you and Dracula remains. His disapproval of Angel- without even knowing who he is, mind you, is somehow significant. By calling him unworthy of you, he has indicated that the one who bit you can't be his equal to challenge him on his- ownership. I'm sorry, hated word."

This time, Buffy tangled her hands in her hair. "So, Dracula's opinion somehow matters?"

"Not in life, only on this one issue. He is powerful. He is also clever. He put different layers of hold on you, so subtly, and made it hard to break them as well. He'd have to be very confident he wouldn't have any other challengers but the one you'd allowed to bite you. Presumably that would have been a very special vampire, one who you had a bond with. Slayers typically don't have such bonds. Should they have them for some reason, the idea that a vampire would be strong, strong enough to rival a slayer in terms of not only strength but intellect and ability to create connection- they're rare."

"So I am eternally screwed? I'm eventually going to ache to live in a drafty castle, wear nighties, and want to snuggle up to Mr. Transylvania 1500?"

Giles stammered out something comforting, lost under the ringing of the phone. Buffy lunged for it, stopping short. "How am I going to tell him I don't want his help now? Just say, 'Sorry Angel, never mind'?"

"Uh- say it's too risky with his past connection to you, or tell him about the unworthy comment?'"

"I don't want to hurt him, Giles!"

"You'll think fast then!" Giles snagged the phone and thrust it into her hand.

At close range, he could hear the male voice, a voice that still made him cringe. You couldn't change the face. You couldn't change the voice. The soul had no bearing on those unfortunate similarities when he compared Angel to Angelus.

"I'm sorry," Angel said slowly, voice full of pain.

"Wh-what?" Buffy hadn't expected that.

"My guys are going to research another way to break the bond. You get Giles and the gang on it, too. I know that- my soul-"

"No, it's okay," Buffy quickly interposed, turning away from Giles. Tears shouldn't sting her eyes_. He should have at least offered. I know it's risky. But I would risk everything for him. I wouldn't make the same mistake again. Except for thinking for a minute that "I'll love you forever" equals "I'll be there when you need me." _"I get it. Let us know what you find out."

"If I could-"

"I get it. Uh- say hi to everyone. Okay. Bye."

"Bye. I lo-"

She hung up fiercely. Then hit the off button. "I'll tell you one thing I miss about your old phone- you could totally slam that puppy down. It could take a good angry hang up."

"I know. These cheap things. So flimsy in their plastic- digitalness." He hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders. "We'll find a way."

"I could kill Dracula in the permanent way, right? That'd end his hold?"

"Absolutely. However… I imagine he's realized that you are the only human in the world capable of doing that and he'll be hiding someplace distant and remote. If you suddenly feel his hold on you strengthen, like you're losing free thought and the ability to resist his aims, you'll know he's nearby. I'll call any sources I have and we'll track him."

"And he'll use his sources and find out we've found out and move to Outer Deserted Arctic Circle just as I get on a plane to head to wherever he is?"

"Well- yes, I mean- he may think he can string this out for several years. He's not burdened by time constraints."

"But I have Mom and college. I can't go globe-trotting!"

Polishing again, knowing as the words left his lips that they were unwise. "We could leave it, I suppose. The farther away he is and the more time passes, the hold will be less tangible. It doesn't seem to be tangible now."

"Oh, no, I _always _feel like my skin shrunk in the shower and my head's on too tight and my body is too hot and I have to move every second." Buffy threw up her hands.

"Perhaps part of that is just your own awareness of your power, Buffy. You've felt restless since we joined together to defeat Adam. Your slayer strength and energy may be blossoming in new ways, your body-"

"Don't say blossoming and body together, Giles. It makes me sound like I'm a thirteen year old who needs her first real bra." She paced, spun, rolled her sleeves up and down.

"I had no idea," Giles said in a mortified voice. _Why don't they train Watchers about any of the physical idiosyncrasies of young women? Why? _"I should have said, your body may be changing- oh, no. I suppose that's worse."

"He told me he was going to teach me. My history. My ability. About my body. I don't think he meant a new way to bench press," Buffy's voice was rising through the octaves.

"Gypsy bastard," Giles lost his apologetic edge at once. What did he mean? Oh, he didn't need to ask that. The thought of the shrewd, charismatic man with his hands all over his girl, in her unwilling state- aware but able to fully fight. A pen snapped in half over his thumb, pieces scattering to the floor, black ink staining his hand. "I'll - wash my hand," Giles muttered, exiting to the kitchen sink.

"You get it. So, no, waiting is not okay. We find a way or we find a harmless, strong vampire whose willing to play 'catch and release' with me. Someone preferably sane and not heavy into hurting would be-"

They both realized it. They both were kicking themselves for not realizing it earlier. "Spike?"

"How much do you think he'd want for this?"

"Probably a thousand."

"Oh man."

"You can beat him down on the price," Giles suggested hesitantly. Beating him down could take literal form.

"I think we keep the threat of beating as part of the 'if you don't bite her, kiss her, and then say she's free, we'll do unspeakable things to you' terms of the deal. Oh, ew. I have to kiss him again. I already kissed him like a thousand times when we were 'betrothed' by Willow." Buffy shook her head wearily. _At least he's good at it. Lately… he's seemed okay-ish. Very eager to not be killed._ "I might tell him this evens us up. We didn't stake him for helping Adam, and he betrayed us, now it's time to pay us back?"

"That sounds reasonable."

"Spike isn't reasonable."

Giles hesitated. "Not entirely, but he is resourceful and clever. He definitely exhibited qualities of possessiveness over Drusilla. I don't know the precise nature, but I dare say she 'owned' him more than the other way around. Otherwise she'd have remained with him after Acathla."

"If you say I'm going to need Drusilla-"

"No! Not at all. Dracula didn't claim Spike to be unworthy, which is excellent for us. Not to cause you further pain, Buffy, but Dracula claimed that the vampire who was unworthy bit you and then left. Hence the uh- unworthiness. Spike is not the leaving sort. Were he to have bitten you, I'm sure he'd still be an active - I mean, should you and he have had the romantic relationship and it - I seem to be talking myself into bad places today," Giles ended nervously.

Buffy smiled in a forlorn way, patting his arm. "Spike is unreasonable, violent, and rude- and he's also romantic, faithful, and patient with bad situations, like mentally unstable girlfriends. I get what you mean." _And it sounds weirdly nice. Not being left, that is. _"If he bit me, are you saying he'd never want to leave?"

"Oh, no! No, this would be strictly business, perfunctory. And we don't seem to be able to shift him anyway."

She laughed in spite of herself, then sobered as a wave of prickling energy and nervousness coursed through her. "Do you think he'll play ball?"

"I think you can convince him." _I think he'll jump at the chance._ "Spike is proud of his connection to slayers. To briefly have a vampiric bond with a living one, who asked for it- it will be something he boasts about."

"Oh, well then, no. I can't let him tell people!"

"Buffy."

"All right, all right. Maybe I'll tell him he can't tell until I'm dead or something."

"Buffy!"

"Never mind, right, braggy vamp, not important. A connection to slayers is a good thing here, because that's the whole- the whole powerful stuff, the worthy challenger stuff, right?"

"I assume it will help."

"Let's go threaten a vampire."

"Perhaps you should try asking politely first?"

"You're ruining my fun, you know that?"

"We need him."

"I hate that."

"He's needed you before. It's a balance. It's simply a matter of common goals."

"What's the common goal now?"

Giles was silent. "It's a matter of money," he corrected, looking pained.

"I want a cosmic rewind button. I would have never let him bite me, stopped Mom before she let him in."

He nodded with a sigh. So many actions to erase, to do-over. "If only, my dear."

_To be continued..._


	2. Part II

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all..._

Author's Note: Thank you to the lovely people who have purchased CrossRealms:Shattered by S. on Amazon. You made my week.

Dedicated to: Terrington, Stuffn'nonsense, and Kayana M.

Part II

Buffy picked up a few choice items from Giles' weapons' chest. She paused as he grabbed some old leather-bound volume, and didn't bother to ask what it was for. _Giles and books. They go together. _

"Ready?" he asked, trying to force brightness into his voice.

"Ready. Oh God. Riley! Riley's going to hate this so, so much more. And what if he can't even do it? Giles, bites are painful! He can't cause me pain!"

"A bite has varying degrees of severity. We'll ask if he can do this without inflicting pain. I actually imagine that part of it- will be based on you."

"Oh, I'll inflict pain on him, no problem," Buffy said cheerfully.

"The chip fires if he is threatening to harm a human. If you and he are able to work this out where you request it and he can deliver it without harming you or causing you pain, the chip shouldn't fire. And to that end- Absence of Sensation spell. Short-acting spell that blocks physical pleasure and pain."

"Why would anyone make a spell that blocks both?"

"Because nerve endings are nerve endings, Buffy. You block the ability for them to feel, they can't feel. At all. If it does feel painful, we can try this, but it'll only last a few moments. It was usually only used for- hrm-specific events."

"Giles, whenever you do that thing, where you cough and look away, I know it was icky. Do you want to just tell me now?"

"No. I do not. I have had enough awkwardness for today, and the day is young. Let's go, I'll drive." _Archaic virginity rituals. Although, I suppose it's better to sacrifice the virginity than the virgin. _

"Can't drive. Can't sit. Too jumpy. Do you suppose any demons jog? I could kill some demon joggers on the way?"

"Buffy, stop. You're beginning to sound like Xander during his insect-eating phase."

"Sorry. Shutting up." Buffy smiled nervously. "Giles? Do you think I should call Riley first?"

"Naturally, if it will help you feel better."

Buffy paused on the front steps. No. It wouldn't. He was already having weird "my girlfriend has a thing for vamps" feelings and giving off vibes she didn't like. _He's not right. He's not. It's just… some of them know things I don't. And Spike- oh, hey, Spike knows more about slayers than most vamps. Probably more than Count Hypnosis did_. "M-maybe we should wait to tell him. If Spike can't help or won't help, he'll get all upset at me for nothing."

"Upset at you?"

She hastily corrected the slip of her tongue, knowing it wasn't truly a slip. "I mean, upset."

"This isn't your fault. You do have power. No other humans have power like yours. Vampires come close. Believing you could find answers doesn't make you bad, it makes you curious, skillful. Warriors hone the knowledge of their weapons. You are your own best weapon." _And the thought of it being dulled, and wielded for evil makes me ill. _

"I missed this," Buffy leaned against him suddenly. _I'm not bad. No one needs to treat me like I'm bad. Darkness isn't always bad, if you use it right. Right? If Spike opens his bleached blonde, pointy mouth to dare insult me for this - well, I won't be surprised. But it's nice to know the people who really matter understand._ "Thanks, Giles. I'll race you? Think I'll beat your car?"

He smiled as she darted off, laughing with something like hope in her eyes. "Very probably."

* * *

Spike almost fell down the trapdoor of his crypt. "Slayer!" he hissed, eyes rolling. He hastily tried to cover the evidence of his home's lower level, but she didn't even seem to notice his awkward crouch, what he was tugging back into place.

"Spike. I- I - hey, so did you know Dracula was in town?"

"Oh yes. I knew. Old rival of mine, wasn't he?" He tried to look smug. In reality, this wasn't a good opening to a conversation. "What's it to do with me? You finish him, Luv? _Properly_?"

"Semi-properly. What's up with the reforming ash stuff?"

"Annoying, init? Your army lad was over here about a week ago. Sayin' he wanted info. Offered to pay, then didn't. Man who doesn't pay his debts, Slayer… not trustworthy." He smiled insincerely, hoping to brass her off, but she just looked confused. He continued, "Be that as it may. He said Drac had his sights on you and he was gonna protect you, all puffed up and ready to defend your honor."

"He was?" Buffy frowned. Had she missed that? Maybe when she was in la-la land, maybe Riley had mentioned coming to see Spike. "Well… there's a little situation. Tiny. Minor. I need some help, and I know you'll want to be paid. Can we talk a price?"

"Hang on, Slayer, no good negotiatin' terms without describin' the job," Spike scoffed. Then his eyes took on a dark twinkle. "Is it to put it to the Caped Wonder? Mr. Tabloid? I'll do you that for free, provided the risk is reasonably low."

The pain in her stomach lessened, finding herself unable to stop the smile on her face, crooked and dark, too. "You'd definitely be sticking it to him. And Mr. Tabloid- nice. He's kind of show off-y."

"The show off-y-est," Spike agreed, then looked appalled. _Only minutes in, and she's ruined any hope I had of sounding even slightly intimidating. _"I thought he'd left town. Do you know where he is? Are you proposin' a road trip?" Eyebrows rose.

_A road trip with Spike. Nope. Give me the continual hyperactivity. _"I hope not. I think we can do what needs to be done from here. But first, can you back up a second?" The nagging thought that she might have missed information didn't cease nagging. "Riley came to see you?"

"Yeah. Told him you could handle Drac. Told him the poof likes his style, his mansions, his imported box o'dirt, his little harem."

"He said he researched. I should have known he didn't mean books!" Buffy grunted.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I only allowed to be _your_ informant? You want to put a little tag on me, _Property of Slayer?_" Spike snapped. _Why doesn't that fill me with more- anger? This mildly irritated feeling doesn't cut it. There definitely shouldn't be tense feelings in my gut, like I wondered what'd be like if such a little label existed._

"No! No, no- ownership. Property. Oh, this sucks." She paced suddenly, almost wringing her hands.

"Did somethin' happen to Finn? It did, didn't it? He tried to tangle with the Count, got himself hurt? Well, I warned him. I said to let _you_ handle it, told him to keep out of it! This isn't my fault, no blamin' me for this. I've been bloody well-behaved all summer, an' you know it. You haven't heard two peeps outta me! An' the fact that I have to boast about that to you makes me bloody sick! What else d'you want me to do besides be a good little chipped puppy and not bite anyone?" he exploded engrily, now inches from her, glaring at her. She froze, mouth working, a cross between anger and - tears? "What is it? What happened?" _Why do I care?_ _But- I hate that look. _

She lifted her hair slowly, revealing two healing holes.

He stepped back, eyes wide. "He got you. But- I know you didn't let him win. He couldn't take you, Slayer. It was that nasty trickery of his. It couldn't be. You aren't turned. You're not-"

"He called me kindred."

Spike sat down hard on the edge of a coffin. "Oh, shit."

"That seems to be the common reaction. I need this broken," Buffy stated with as much calm as she could muster. Inside, a tiny piece of her took pride in Spike's wholehearted belief that she would beat the legendary vamp in question. More than Riley seemed to think possible.

"What? You can't break a hold from Drac! You'd need someone powerful. You'd need all kinds of bondin' and lovin' and mental control, not to mention the bitin' itself -oh. I guess you can break it. Give my regards to Angel. I hope he dies a nice painful death, somethin' along those lines." He reached in his back pocket for a cigarette, feeling unaccountably, annoyingly bitter.

"If I needed Angel, would I be here?" _Where the hell is Giles? I'm fast, but I'm not that fast. Or am I? _She suddenly could hear her heart beating in the silence. She looked at Spike for a second, and saw him subtly lean forward, head cocked. "Can you hear that?"

"You on somethin'?"

"Yes, Dracu-roids. I have my free-will back, along with a side of extreme antsiness and borderline tachycardia. Look, I'll give you all the details you want, but first things first. I can't use Angel. I can't live like this. I know I'm laying it on the line here, but I don't have a lot of options. Can you help me out? Break this hold, and we're even for everything you did. The kidnapping, the Adam-helping, the endless snarking, old attacks, and set-ups. No more gudge-holding Slayer. Okay?"

Giles appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat. He had heard the last bit. "Hello. It seems that you're aware of the situation."

Spike licked his lips. His normally agile mind seemed to be mired in treacle. "I would. But, I can't. I'd have to bite you. I'd have to- what exactly did you an' Drac get up to?" His eyes narrowed suddenly.

"Nothing! I mean, he bit me once, I tasted his blood. I didn't bite him. And it grossed me out! He said I would know the true source of my power if I … I- it's not important."

"The slayer is the source of her own power," Spike scoffed. The Watcher looked suddenly murderous and the girl looked miserable. He continued quickly, "Although I'm sure there's a lot of mojo and mystical bits to it. He'd be good at that. Yeah. Makes sense. He offered you a deal, an' you took it. Respect that." Okay, so he didn't _fully_ respect it, but he could play along.

Her eyes shone with genuine gratitude. It startled him into smiling back, alarmed at the sudden lack of control of his own facial muscles.

"He wanted _your _power, Luv. Wanted a taste. Lyin' bastard. He cheats at cards, too."

_My heart should not feel warm. Or tingly. Oh, geez. I'm sick right now, that's all. _"Giles, explain the biting thing."

"I have a test. Buffy, can you please ask Spike to take your hand?"

"What? Why? That's not gonna do it, Watcher," Spike put his hands firmly in his pockets.

Giles sighed patiently. "Pain is caused by intent and force. Buffy, ask _me_ to take you hand."

"This so sudden," Buffy tried to joke.

"Why is this situation only serious to me?" His eyes closed and he waited.

"Giles, hold my hand, please."

He took it. "Tell me to squeeze."

"Squeeze."

Giles looked at Spike. "This is a requested action. It is pressure, without pain. Without force. Now, I can keep squeezing, and since I'm simply a regular man, Buffy won't feel any pain." Giles squeezed harder and harder, and eventually Buffy gave him a mildly uncomfortable look. He released her instantly. "If you intend to touch a human without hurting them, I'm sure you can do this. Your jaws are simply body parts, fangs as well. If you intend to bite to heal, not to hurt, perhaps you can. Not to bring up bad memories, but I observed- blurrily- the two of you kissing and lapping at each other for hours. I am sure that some of it was- hm- a bit aggressive, if loving."

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Loving under the guise of the spell, Spike. Now, let's attempt this, shall we? Then we can talk price. Buffy- hand. Spike, exerting pressure as she asks you to."

Buffy held out her hand without looking at him. "Spike? Hold my hand," she ordered.

"You didn't say please."

"_Please_ don't make me punch you."

"You'd think you might be a bit nicer! I'm risking a headache that feels like someone suddenly skewered me with red hot pokers in in every body part at once. The thought of it is enough to make me sick, an' I'm doin' it for you 'cause you were turned on by the mysterious git with the movie theater accent."

"I wasn't turned on!" Buffy shouted.

"Do this properly! Buffy, your life is at stake, in a way. And Spike." Giles was tempted to pull out a stake. But that wouldn't be advisable. Threatening those who you need to help was a last resort. Even if it _was_ Spike. "You have been spared many times by Buffy. You can surely take this risk for her, as a gesture for all the times she has let you live- and _continues to do so_."

"Please take my hand," Buffy whispered, contrite, still not looking at the vampire. She tried not to jump as his larger fingers pressed past her own. "Press harder."

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Spike mumbled it out loud, as if the declaration could stop the chip. _Think good thoughts. Kind thoughts. Holdin' Dru's hand. Skippin' through streets runnin' red, pulling her along as we climbed up towers and down mountainsides, the world was ours. _

He seized onto her, hands locking. The grip was sure and earnest, almost like he wanted to lead her somewhere, show her something. "Harder." Her mouth was dry.

He pulled. _I'm not hurting. I'm not hurting._

Eyes met. "Harder."

Giles had to look up. He saw the lips move, but heard no sound.

He tugged, pulled her to his chest, arms between them like a standing arm-wrestling match was about to begin, his knuckles whiter than usual, and she squeezed him back.

Both of them were panting, eyes locked, hands locked, inches away. She made a tiny little sound, not of pain, of discomfort, and his hand fell away like he was burned. "Did it go off?" she asked breathing hard.

"No, no, we're good," he nodded, gasping back in the same tone.

Giles lost his grip on the book he'd been holding, shattering the moment as it landed on the floor with a loud thump. They both jumped and sprang apart, almost guiltily. _What just happened? I can't imagine what just happened, why such a simple act seemed to cause such- exertion_. "I think we've found our solution. At least a working model. I can- I can wait outside if you'd like to-"

"I can't do this now. I mean, I know I need to do it soon, but I have to register for classes by ten this morning. I- I'm supposed to meet Willow. Riley-"

"Oh, no. No, you don't tell Soldier Boy. He won't care if you're dyin' and I have the cure. He'll care that I bit his honey. I'm happy to do you a good turn, Slayer, but not at the price of my life."

_He's happy to help me?_ Her brain hit a rumble strip and faltered in reply. "He has to know."

"Then it's off. Or, you tell 'em when it's done. No, he'll just stake me when you're fine." Spike now paced, looking anxious. "Sod this effing chip!" He kicked the coffin.

"Erm, Spike. Riley has no desire to hurt a helpless creature. You've helped us and as you mentioned, you've strived to remain off the radar and beyond reproach- well, not killing- this summer. He has no-"

"-bloody problem with staking me. Told me so when he came here last week. Said you didn't want to kill me because I'd been helpful at times, plus, I'm helpless, not a 'true threat'. Said he didn't see it your way. Had no problem takin' me out." Spike skipped cigarettes and rummaged by his mini fridge. A half-empty bottle of booze appeared and he gulped several long swallows.

"He… said he would kill you?" Buffy looked confused. "This last week when he asked you about Dracula?"

"Riley asked Spike about Dracula?" Giles looked surprised as well.

"Yes to both questions! I'm not endin' up dusty for this!"

"I promise you won't!" Buffy impulsively crossed to him and touched his arm. "You're saving my life- at least parts of it. How can he object to that?"

Spike stared at her pityingly. "How can he not? I'll tell you what. You run this past him without naming any names. That you have a hold, an' it's gotta get broken. You don't mention my name at all. See what he suggests and what he's okay with. Then, if you can extract some sort of promise that he'll swear on his neatly pressed uniform and his life an' all that, that he won't hurt the vamp who helps you, - you _still _tell 'em it's someone else. Tell 'em it's an old pal, tell him it's Harm! Or Angelus! Just. Not. Me."

"You can trust him," Buffy offered softly. _I thought he'd want to brag. I thought he'd make me suffer, tease, bully, bluster- it's all he's got left. But he doesn't._

"No, Buffy, _you _can trust him," Spike countered, using her given name. "I won't leave town. You get this sorted, I'll be about, and we'll try it."

"Buffy, why don't you go onto register and meet Willow? Spike, I'd like to ask you some questions about these vampiric holds," Giles suggested.

"Keep it quick, it's beddy-by for some of us. Especially if I'm gonna need to deal with the likelihood of having my brain stabbed and electrocuted multiple times in an evening."

Buffy winced. "Thank you. I'll- be over tonight. Um. Thanks. Bye." She backed out of the door without her usual grace, almost stumbling in hurry to get away.

Spike groaned and regarded the solitary Watcher. "Well?"

"Two bites, two blood exchanges. He did one. He lured her with her own good intentions. She wants to become a better slayer."

"Why the bloody hell does she need to do that? She's already the best! Is there some sort of award she's buckin' for?"

Giles smiled briefly. "The point is, that's how you weaken her. I know you know that and you won't make that mistake. Now- the hold part. You have to claim her as family, kindred. Or - you know, any of the possessive terms."

"I'm not claimin' that girl! She'll do me in!"

"Spike!" Giles hissed. "You have to do it until the hold is broken, and then you release her yourself. It's not hard. You simply-"

"I say, 'I cast you off.' I say, 'You're no longer mine.' There's variations and I know of 'em. The point is, she's never gonna let herself be 'owned' by me, even for an hour. She won't let me have that kinda power!"

"Dracula already has a very weak hold on her that she's doomed to suffer with until he forces her hand or she breaks it herself. Having a shorter, stronger hold is preferable. And you know that you're unable to hurt her, or I will kill you in a very creative manner that leaves you plenty of painful time for reflection as you die. Clear?" Giles smiled brightly, a touch of mania in his usually serious eyes.

"Easy!"

"Ah, you understand me. You complete the hold, you release her. While she feels connected, you won't ask her to do anything untoward."

"Villain's honor," Spike huffed. Then he hesitated. "There's gotta be a connection. You know that. I can say whatever the hell I want, but if she don't feel something back, it's for sod all. You both seem to conveniently narrow this down to nuts and bolts, a bite, a taste, a word. Connection is mutual. It's not a one-way tether."

"Yes, yes, I know. I think- I think you two have a tenuous connection already. You've been allies. Partners and foes. Dracula hunted her as a slayer, you study slayers, you've studied her for the longest, haven't you?" The pale figure nodded sullenly. "Not only that, but you are a worthy challenger. As far as lore goes, Dracula never killed or turned a slayer. You've killed two and made one your ally, if not a friend. I think the probability is good, I believe the connection is there, and I think it can be strengthened over a few days. Then there is the-erm- the kiss."

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow and tilted his head. "The what?"

"An act of intimacy. That is stronger than the one Dracula used. As best we can tell, he embraced her, held her prior to biting her. If you- hrm- kiss her, that ought to work. You've already kissed under the spell that Willow inadvertently performed."

"Holdin' someone can be more intimate than a peck on the cheek. Or the mouth. Oh, bollocks, Giles! I've never done this before! I don't know how to break a hold. Couldn't bloody place one the only time I ever wanted to," he confessed.

"I'm sorry. But you are our best hope. If you're intentions are -well, not pure, but not ill-intentioned, then we'll forgive mistakes along the way. As long as you can help her. And of course, the payment-"

"I told her I'd do it for the pleasure of smackin' Drac down. I can't go back on that now. But if you'd do me the favor of keepin' my fridge an' bar stocked up for a few weeks?"

"Done and done."

"An' keeping Finn away from me. You know the girl trusts him. I don't. He doesn't see me as anything but a pest to be exterminated. Pests don't converse, don't promise, don't love. All right, I'm a killer, that's bad, you good guy types kill the killers, the demons. But I'm not hurting anyone. I'm-" Spike felt his fists curl. He hated being helpless. He hated - feeling like this. This odd phenomenon of wanting people to know, wanting Buffy to know, that he wasn't set on harming them anymore. _It's wrong, and I've got to play into it more than ever. Maybe this great act of goody-goody-ness will snap me out of it. _

"You are an associate. You are- on our side?" Giles tossed out softly.

"Yeah. Yeah, 'm not keen to hurt any of you. Except for Finn. I hate him. I'd kill 'em good an' proper. But not the rest. Now go. I feel sick at the thought of all of this. I'll do what I can, quick as I can."

"I'll do whatever you need to help her."

Spike wondered briefly what he could ask for, what he could get out of this. There wasn't anything he wanted. His fangs suddenly ached. Slayer blood. Slayer close to him. Not fighting, but still battlin' something. He couldn't think of anything. "Is that what the book's for? You got a spell to break the hold? No, then why'd you need me for?"

"I'll copy this out if needed. I don't think it will be, and I'd rather not use it. Buffy's not terribly good with spells. There's an Absence of Sensation spell."

"I can do an odd bit of sorcery. Lemme-" Spike reached for the book, but Giles pulled it tighter under his arm. "I'm not gonna rip the pages, Librarian."

"It causes a temporary lack of sensation, a few moments where you cannot feel pain or pleasure, you feel nothing physical. If need be, if the bite seems to trigger pain no matter what you try, she can be - numbed."

"Well, do it to me! Then I could bite without getting zapped- well, without feelin' the zap!"

"It's surface, Spike, not internal. It would be suitable for the breaking of - of skin or tissue. Not the electrifying of organs. Besides, if it _did _work on you, you might not be able to feel what you were doing to her, and if she feels endangered, she _will_ kill you."

"What was it for then? Doesn't seem terribly useful."

"It's been useful before and it may be again. I'll leave you to 'rest up.'" Giles inclined his head stiffly and took his leave.

* * *

Spike sat down heavily. _Rest up. That's a laugh. Too troubled to sleep._

He looked startled at the breathy snarling sound he made as he shifted in his chair. _Oh, hell no. We're not doing this. Not like we're excited. You- growly bits. Shut your yap._

He drank heavily, suddenly, draining the bottle, and fell halfway down the ladder in his hurry to hurl himself into bed where sleep would surely clear his mind.

* * *

_What are you doing in here? He woke up to her touch on his arm. _

"_I need to borrow this." She was touching his face now, running her thumb over his brow, and like a switch being pulled, his fangs emerged. _

"_You don't want to wear the fangs, Luv."_

"_No, I want to know why I don't need them. I fight the dark. Am I _in _the dark? Can you see me?" _

_He looked up, and she wasn't beside him. In a split blink of an eye, she was wrapped in a shimmering shadow of blackness across the room, little bits of black and red gauze and gold, one of Dracula's mindless brides. The room was getting bigger by the second and far away, he heard the low, rasping chuckle of someone who knows he has a piece that will withstand the long game._

_He snarled, "Hey! No, don't you do that! Get back to me. I'm gonna hold onto you. Get out of that goddamn slave-girl get up. You're not his ruddy concubine, you're the Slayer. You're my Slayer! Mine!"_

_And she was back, all pink and pressed against him, smiling. He could hear words in his head, but she wasn't moving her lips. "Do you know the source?"_

_He wanted to lie. "Not all of it." His lips weren't moving either. He knew they weren't, they were frozen, carved like marble, too close to hers._

"_But you'll help me look?"_

"_Yeah, I'll help."_

"_Why?"_

"_I had power, too. I don't know where it is now. Don't know how I want to use it when I find it again."_

_Blue eyes and green, warm body and cold, all of the sudden sinking into darkness. "We're looking for them together?" _

"_Together."_

_Hands. Hands pressing and biting, mouths and necks, pressing and biting, and her breath against his ear, "Harder. Harder. Harder!" _

_And he knew it wasn't only their hands that were connected._

* * *

He sat up hard enough to give himself whiplash. He was panting, sweating, shaking. Sheets were tangled and his head hurt without the hangover or the zap.

"Oh no. Please, no."

To be continued...


	3. Part III

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: KyanaM, Stuffn'Nonsesn, Brokenblackrose, Pgoodrichboggs, Pentastic, and SJwheelan._

Part III

"Modern Europe?"

"Only if you're in it, too."

"Greek Art?"

"Only if you're in it."

"Tara's in it."

"Deal."

Poetry Seminar?"

"Only if you're-"

"Buffy! You can handle this alone. Look, I had Professor Lilias last semester. He's amazing and super kind."

"Fine, sign me up."

"You need one more. Computer Science 101?"

"Do I have to?"

"If I have to help you do assignments, you know I'll ace them on your behalf."

"You would ace any assignment anyway."

Willow's head swivelled as they conversed. "It would be slightly easier to help you complete the registration form if you weren't a moving target. Do you see this poor tree? It has root damage now. You've caused years' worth of soil erosion in thirty minutes."

"That's me, a force of nature." Buffy smiled at Willow, but couldn't stop pacing around the shady tree on campus. "How am I going to sit through class in two weeks? Huh? Can't you hear the professor? 'Ms. Summers, that's a fascinating hundred yard dash you're doing in the back of the auditorium. I want to see your notes on my desk before you leave for the day. What, you haven't taken any because it's hard to write and jog? You're fired!' Or whatever the academic firing equivalent is. Expelled. Can college professors expel you?"

"Buffy, what's with the-"

"Do you know what 'kindred' means?"

Willow brightened. "Oooh, vocab! Totally. So, kindred can be like, 'we have oodles in common and we're in sync' or 'you are my blood kin, my relative.' Why?"

"Funny story. If Dracula calls you that and you two swap blood, guess what? You're in the family. I'm adopted."

Willow paused. "Have you told your mother yet? She might take it hard."

"Wills!" Buffy couldn't help but laugh in spite of the mounting frustration.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That's terrible. I don't understand what exactly this 'adoption' is. You're not a vampire. You don't want to be one. "

"No, and I'm not feeling like I have someone reprogramming me or anything, either. But, I do feel hyped up in a mega way. I just chugged one hundred mochas kind of way."

"We- we have to fix it! How do we fix it?"

Buffy hesitated. "We're working on something. We might need help if the first idea doesn't work. And I might not be around for a couple nights."

"What did Riley say?"

"I haven't told him yet. As soon as I'm done registering, I'm girlfriend gal." She twisted a strand of hair around her thumb. "Willow? If this happened to you, because Dracula was like, 'Hey, I have the secrets of all magic here, and I can help you be the best witch ever and feel comfortable with your power and your place in the world' and you did it… You didn't even know you were doing it- how would Tara react?"

"What? Tara?"

"Yeah. If you and Dracula had some intense- but not intentional!- bond."

"Oh, well, she'd get it. It wasn't like I was asking him to make me all loopy and hyper."

"You think I'm loopy?"

"No, _I'm_ loopy when I'm hyper. Remember the soda incident?"

"Right, continue."

"What are you really asking?"

"Would she be mad?" Buffy asked, the wince obvious on her petite features.

"No! Worried. And she'd want to help."

"Riley's going to be worried. And want to help. And- do that thing where he thinks I'm extra freaky. The 'My girlfriend likes vampires' thing."

"Buffy, only an idiot would say that. You have dusted hundreds of vamps, way more than him, and you're younger than he is! If you liked them, wouldn't you avoid killing them? Wouldn't you be all 'Yay me! I'm part of the biggest vampire in history's family now! My dreams are coming true, tra-la-la'?"

Buffy stifled a laugh, sounding unfortunately like a snort. "Sure, maybe without the musical touch, but…"

"You wouldn't be looking to break this hold-thingy. And you wouldn't tell him about it. You wouldn't tell anyone, because you'd be afraid we'd try to end it." Willow rose and took her pacing friend by the elbow.

"Thanks, Will. You're right. I'm overreacting. Tell me I'm overreacting."

"You are overreacting. Here, sign this, I'll take it to the registrar and you go end the torment of not telling."

Buffy hugged her best friend as she signed the papers, trying not to take her over backwards with the extra ferocity she was struggling to turn off. "Will? Do you ever think you want to understand where your power comes from? Why you can do really hard, deep magical stuff that pretty much no one else can?"

Willow blinked. "N-no. I'm just grateful."

"Oh."

"But- Buffy? I don't stop learning about it. I may never understand my power completely. I never stop reading, and studying, and practicing with Tara or Giles."

Buffy suddenly leaned against a tree, hands clasped to her middle over the surging tension. "He told me I had darkness that rivalled his own. He told me I wasn't sure who I was, or what I will be."

"Is anyone?" Willow asked simply.

"I want to be good," Buffy whispered, lower lip trembling. "I know I have something as dark as demons', or else I wouldn't be able to fight them like this…"

"No, no, no. Good triumphs over evil. If you can fight demons, it doesn't mean you're as bad as them, it means you're better than them. You know that! You've always known that! Why with the doubt?"

_Because I felt confused. I still feel confused. Close to him. I don't feel close to anyone else like that. There's a hunger… No one I know, no one I love, is feeding it. I'm running harder than ever, fighting better than ever, and I still can't get full…_ Buffy forced a smile to her face. "I guess he made me question myself. Even the Master, even Angelus- I always at least _fought_ them. I mean, I got bitten-"

"Not by Angelus! Angel. You offered, that was love, not weakness!" Willow yelped.

"The point being, Mr. Legendary Big Bad got to the vampire equivalent of home base before I got fighty. I wanted to find out stuff from him."

Willow's smile was lopsided, voice gentle. "Proves what I've been saying for four and a half years. You're _smart_. Riley knows that. Now, go. Stop the festering and you'll see he'll be total support guy."

* * *

"Are you _kidding_ me? How in the world did something so stupid happen a week ago and you just now realized it?" Riley hit the speed bag in his room so hard it creaked out of its harness and crashed to the floor.

"Excuse me? _Stupid_?" Buffy went for the recently acquired heavy bag. One good punch sent sawdust trickling from the burst side.

"I'm sorry. I mean- why didn't you tell us right away?"

"I didn't know right away! I've never heard of this, ever! Dracula is unusual, remember? The whole connection thing with his victims, not just a quick bite for dinner?"

"Yeah, he's long-term relationship material, not a one night stand," Riley muttered bitterly.

"And yet again, I say, excuse me?" Buffy angrily wiped at her eyes. Stupid tears. Not happening.

"What do we do to fix it? You kill him, right? You did kill him- mostly."

"He's hard to kill. He's weak right now- but he's also very, very gone. I can't kill him and break this unless I go off on a world-wide hunt. And by the time I get there- he might go 'poof' and do his misting away trick."

"I'll go! I'll do it. I don't have a military position to fill and I can request -"

"Riley! I'm the Slayer and I couldn't finish him! What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to have the same issues you did."

Her voice practically gave him frostbite. "Issues? What issues?"

Finally sensing the danger he was in, Riley changed his angry, exasperated voice to one of sympathetic boyfriend. "I know he had you under his spell."

"He had Xander under one, too. And in case you're about to go there, if there is one person who hates vampires more than me, it's him. Wasn't Giles affected, too? Have you ever seen Giles affected by- gee, I don't know, _anything_? He has 'British Reserve' tattooed on his chest. Actually, no, he doesn't, that would be scary. But you get it, right? This isn't about me having a case of transference. So if you think you'll be just fine because you don't have an ex with fangs, think again."

"Fine, let's say it has nothing to do with that. I have different tactics than you do. I can do a long-range kill and-"

"How? _How_ are you going to do a long range kill on a guy who can pop up two inches behind you and then forty feet away from you _before you blink_? He can turn into mist, he can turn into a tiny little bat and fly away!"

"Why are you getting defensive with me? I'm offering to help you!"

"I'm getting upset because you think that you can just swoop in and fix it for me, like I failed and you'll just naturally be successful."

"Well… he's not dead and you're mentally attached to him. I don't see this as a total success, Buffy," Riley pointed out gently.

"It's not entirely mental. It's something he did, that I'm going to undo. I'll be busy doing it. If I can't fix it soon, he'll come back to Sunnydale to finish what he started," Buffy said evenly, voice low. If she let it get any louder, it would break. She wasn't sure if it would devolve into screaming or sobbing, but both were not okay to show him. Not now. He already thought she was weak. Weak physically, weak as a fighter, weak mentally. She had to swallow the bile that was rising. "If he comes back, you can try to finish him then. But in the meantime, don't rush off, okay?"

"Okay. Okay, I'm here for you. I'll help you with whatever you want. What do we do? A spell?"

Telling him any specifics would be an act of idiocy. But lying would be worse. _Moral dilemmas should never happen with boyfriends. You have to use them to save the world and- oh. Boyfriend got involved in that, too._

"Uh, well, a spell is something that's like an accessory to fixing this," Buffy began cautiously. "But the only way to break his hold is to kill him, or override it."

"Override? Like a command sequence?"

"More like mutiny? Another vampire-" Buffy froze as his jaw clamped and fire lit up in the usually friendly, placid eyes. _But he needs to know. He's the boyfriend. He wants this to get fixed._ "Riley, you want me to get better, right?"

"Of course! I just don't want you to get worse first. So, you were saying? Another vampire… does what?"

"Takes the hold instead, then releases me from his own. And I won't be under Dracula's power anymore, because the other one erases it. Breaks it."

"How?"

"Uh- they say some special words and - and they -"

"You're not a good liar."

_You have no idea. I lied for years and fooled the person who birthed me. I fooled everyone. Maybe even myself. _"I'm not lying. I'm trying to figure out how mad you're going to be at me. Like I did something and you have to put up with the mess I made." Buffy crossed her arms and glared him down.

He had the grace to look abashed. "Of course I'm not mad. I'm here for you. Whatever you need to do."

He's not a good liar, either, Buffy thought. "He bites me and uses his words to replace Dracula's bond. I have to want it. That's the connection. And obviously I do want it, because I want to be done feeling like this."

"Bites you? He has to bite you? Are you insane?"

"Don't call me that. Never. Call me that." Buffy reached down and grabbed the denim satchel she'd carried. "I'm done. I explained, it'll be over soon, and then you can freak out some more. Because that's super supportive and it's really helpful, Riley."

"Buffy, wait!" Riley charged after her as she fled from his room. "Listen to me! Of course I don't want you to get hurt! Vampires are evil and violent! Who in the world are you -oh. Of course. Angel." Riley shook his head, lips curling in distaste. "I want to be there."

"What?" Buffy paled. "Huh?"

"You're going to visit your ex, who went evil from a moment of pure joy with you. Doesn't sound too stable. I think you need someone to watch your back."

"Riley, I don't want you there. Not because I don't value your help, but because it's - delicate. If it gets messed up, I'm not going to get better." _And it would be the _most _awkward thing in the world._

"Delicate, huh? I've seen vampire attacks. They look messy. Not too dainty. Ugh. If the labs were still open, I could have handled this. Gotten you one before we chipped it."

"But- but there would be no connection. There has to be a connection, a bond with someone to remove the hold. One that is stronger than Dracula's. Angel would be the best candidate," Buffy stated her own truthful opinion. "We can't be together, but he always wants to help me, and he is a genuinely good man. He fights so hard to make up for what he's done. I've saved his life, this would be his chance to return the favor and -"

He interrupted,"_Vampire._ Good vampire, you mean." Riley corrected her with palpable bitterness. Her eyes blazed, but he didn't care. "And that's great, that he's working so hard to make up for two centuries of murdering innocent men, women, and children."

"Are you trying to make this worse?" Buffy choked out. "Because you're doing a terrific job. Congratulations. Anything else you want to say?"

"Find someone else!"

"Who? Tell me who!"

He couldn't. He spat out, "Hell, at least it's not Spike. He's chipped, or he'd be first in line. He's a little _too_ comfortable around you."

"Riley- for once in the history of my life- a vampire who I can get comfortable around is okay. I'm serious. I either stay in limbo, or I get fixed."

Riley turned away. "Get fixed." He turned back. "Some other way."

She didn't know how to react to him, his desperate, pleading eyes, his arms wrapping around her and looking so lost at her. His head touched hers, all of the sudden reminding her that this was what she wanted, should want. The sweetest, kindest man, who mostly accepted the dark parts of her life.

But not every piece of darkness, a tiny voice reminded her. "Wh-what do you want me to do?"

"Let's research for a few days first. Promise me- you won't go see Angel until you've exhausted every other option."

"I promise," she was able to say with total honesty. He let out a huge rush of air, deflating in relief and joy, crushing her to his chest in relief and gratitude. Lips met and she was happy to make him happy.

She was just sad she had to hide the truth from him to do it.

* * *

"I need you to do something for me," Buffy plunked herself down on Giles' couch, looking pale and exhausted. Her chest hurt from where her heart thudded hard all day long.

"Do you want me to accompany you to Spike's?"

"No. I want you to lie for me. Cover for me. And I'm a bad, _bad _girlfriend and I know that."

"Buffy! Now, what in the world happened this afternoon?"

"I talked to Willow. I didn't explain how we would break the hold. Told her I would be busy for a couple nights. Then I went to see Riley, and I gave him the outline version of how you break a hold- bite and possessive words, that's it- and he flipped. He went ballistic. No cool to be had. He assumed that I would be doing this to get a chance to see Angel and he went commando on me and wanted to go and do a 'long-range kill' on Dracula, like I didn't kill the bastard because my technique is bad!" Her hand went through a throw pillow. "I'll buy you another one."

"It's unnecessary," Giles sat beside her, gently sliding another throw pillow into her path. Better that meet an untimely end than his coffee table or the sofa itself. "And you told him it wasn't Angel?"

"No. I decided to stop talking after he told me I was stupid and hung up on guys with fangs. He mentioned Spike."

Giles controlled his burgeoning anger with an effort. "As a an alternative solution?"

"No, as in, 'Thank God at least he's chipped. He can't bite you, but he is strangely comfortable around you.' He actually said he wished he still had access to unchipped vamps in the labs so he could just fix this right up." Buffy snapped her fingers, mimicking Riley's quick fix attitude.

"A deep connection must be-"

"I know! I know. And- Spike and I do have a lot of history. We were engaged under a spell, so maybe that will help in some way." She turned on her side, fetal position, looking up at the man she trusted like a father. "Do you think I'll get better?"

"Yes."

"Do you think I'm a bad girlfriend?"

"No. If you were a bad girlfriend, you'd let the caped bastard have you." Giles' voice changed, grittier, less well-mannered.

"Giles!" she had to smile, eyes momentarily twinkling at his Ripper voice. "But- Riley said Spike being chipped meant he couldn't bite me."

"He can't, if he intends to hurt you. If he intends to heal you and he does this- and my tongue shrivels with the unlikeliness of this phrase- if he does with the tenderness we know he can show when properly motivated, I am very confident. But Buffy - and I don't wish to discourage you in the slightest- but I want you to be realistic. It might not happen in a few seconds or even hours. You and Spike might take several attempts to complete things."

"Can't I just use that no feeling spell?"

"For the bite, if you must. For the connection, no. Spike pointed out that anyone can say a word. I could stand here right now and say 'Buffy Summers is my daughter.' I- that's a rather bad example, actually."

He waited for her to connect the dots. She launched herself into his arms. "Yes. She is."

He hid his smile in her hair before becoming business-like again. "Hrm. Now, then. Another example. That horrible beast, Kakistos, he could come here, were he still alive, and say 'Buffy Summers is my daughter' and you would laugh and ram my end table through his chest."

"I'm hard on your furniture, huh?"

"Fortunately, you're even harder on the demons, or this place would literally be a hellhole and not worth living in. The point of my example being- Spike could call you anything. If you don't want it- you won't be able to end Dracula's bond. The connection must be mutual."

"Does that mean I - I wanted to be in his family?" Buffy looked sickened and confused.

"No. He called you kindred. What did you think he meant?"

"That I was like him in some way. Someone powerful. Dark. Mysterious." She blushed. _Sounds like _someone _has a big ego._ "I thought he admired me and I was impressed by him. I mean, the guy's a legend!"

fIGiles smiled. "You accepted- reluctantly and without fully understanding- that you and he were kindred. Alike in some important ways."

She studied her hands. "I thought he knew something I didn't. Turns out- he just thought he did. He thought he was going to find my true nature- all dark and wanting the big pain, the bloodsucking immortality riff. Nope. That's not what I want."

_The problem is… I still haven't really found out what that is. I just know what it isn't._

Giles patted her hand comfortingly. "I don't need to remind you of all the foolish mistakes and misunderstandings I've caused. You were there for the more horrific ones. Now, then. Let's dismiss the term lying and refer to this as a- a matter of secrecy. What secret do you want me to keep for you?"

"I don't want Riley to know what I'm doing. I don't want the gang to know yet, either, not because I think they'd wig, entirely. I just don't want them to let it slip. I'm pretty sure Riley plans to come over here. He said he wanted me to find another way to break this and made me promise I wouldn't go to Angel until we looked for other options. I didn't tell him Angel was off the table. So if he and the rest of the gang shows up, I want you to tell them that I'm doing some- some ritual cleansing thing in isolation that I can't be disturbed or it'll undo the work I put in. Then have them research ways to break a hold. Seriously, maybe there _is_ another way, and that would save me hassle."

"That's all very feasible, and of course I will. Are you heading directly to Spike's?"

"Pretty soon."

"I got him a good bit of blood from the butcher's today. It ought to help curb any desire to bite for feeding."

"Oh, come on. You know he hates that stuff. If it's between a fresh neck and cold cow-juice, my pretty little neck and I win every time."

"True, but if he starts feeding, he'd get a terrible headache. He described that very vividly, didn't he?"

Buffy winced. "Grateful as I am for it, I so do not ever want to experience that thing."

"Nor do we want him to get resentful and angry at doing this and give up due to the pain. Take him the blood?"

"Of course," Buffy nodded. To give up because of the pain. That's a real possibility. _He won't get anything out of this. Not even bragging rights. If it hurts him- how many tries will it take before he tells me no? I guess I could put a stake to his- no._ She felt sick. The idea of forcing him to do something for the greater good, that didn't really bother her. The idea of forcing him to endure _pain_ just for her mistakes rankled. _I'm not dark like that._

"Could you rest for a few minutes? You've been burning a great deal of energy. Did you eat?"

"Mom feeds me like it's her job during the summer. Baby's home from college." Buffy did recline on the couch.

"Close your eyes for a bit." Giles moved around the apartment, closing drapes, turning off lights, lighting a stick of incense. "I imagine you'll have trouble sleeping with the extra energy. Might as well grab a few minutes while you can."

"Sounds good. Giles?"

"Hm?"

"Is having a truce when it suits us enough of a connection?"

He hesitated. "Spike's fascination with slayers goes deeper than that. I would say on his end, it's very possible."

"I'm the weak end of the chain here?" she closed her eyes, fighting down a whimper.

"To paraphrase the one who started this mess- only when you want this can it be achieved. Only when you… burn for him."

"I'll never burn for Spike."

"You didn't exactly light up for Dracula, either. But you craved knowledge. Spike has some. If you believe he can help you unlock what you're looking for, he-"

Buffy heard the rest like listening to murmuring behind a waterfall. Exhaustion won out.

* * *

_Spike's place. _

_It was nice of him to leave me dinner. _

_Buffy picked up the heavy gold cup, filled with crimson. Oh, not this much. I can find it without this much._

"_Slayer, put that down. Back away."_

"_Spike! You put it out for me." Her eyes were questioning._

"_You know that's not my style, Luv." His were amused. "You know us better. At least me, you do."_

_Cold laughter tickled her ears. A lilting accent touched her mind, "The gift is only for my bride. She who is worthy." _

_She batted the cup down, spilling blood all over stone. The voice stopped._

_Spike was emerging from dark recesses in the cavernous like space that somehow imposed itself into the crypt. Buffy trailed her hand atop the stained stone and came to him. _

"_He tricked me." She held up bloody hands._

"_I know." He didn't mind when she put them on him._

"_You did that." She pushed him back._

"_Once. The rest of the time- we fight." He stepped up, hands out like taking his partner for a waltz. She nodded and he bowed as they stepped into the suddenly much bigger space. _

_They traded blows, circling, in rhythm to music that didn't exist. Hard blows that didn't cause either of them pain. "Why are you fighting me?" he ground out, hard hands on her shoulders._

"_I always fight evil."_

"_All right, fair enough. Why are you fighting_ me_?"_

"_Aren't you- evil?"_

"_Not always."_

"_No! You are or you aren't!"_

"_Like you're dark or you're light? No middle ground for you? Why the hell do you think you're so tired? You keep climbing the mountain and divin' the depths."_

_They were falling together. Into the depths. She didn't have time to gasp for air._

_The water swallowed them up completely, suddenly. Dark black water, and she couldn't see anything but him, somehow suddenly bare, pure white in the black. Thing of light in the darkness. She gasped as something tickled her reality and her lungs filled with water. _

"_I can help you." He came at her in game face, but it smoothed out as he grabbed her around the waist, bending her drowning body back. He kissed her._

_No. Breathed for her. Her lungs reinflated, and she latched onto him. Breathing back._

_She drew back and looked at him. He looked so acutely pained, suddenly grasping at his chest, mouth opening and closing frantically._

_She heard his voice in her head, but not from his gasping lips, low and passionate, and hurting. "I'm drowin' in you, Summers. I'm drowin'."_

_I know the feeling. There was a hesitation. If she did this, it would change everything. _

_She seized him and fit her mouth onto his, eyes closing, first his, then hers. _

_They stabilized. She couldn't be talking, her mouth was busy. So was his. But she could hear him, his little desperate chant over hers. Somewhere in the dark waters, their voices layering over one another, "Harder. Harder. Harder…"_

* * *

"Buffy! Are you in pain? You started moaning." Giles gently shook her shoulder.

"I really hope I didn't just have a slayer dream." She sat up, shaking. Not cold. Hot. Too hot. Too confused.

"A prophetic dream. Why? What happened?"

"I was drowning and Spike was able to breathe- like human air breathe- and he saved me."

Giles smiled. "That sounds prophetic, in the symbolic sense of the word. You're drowning in the way that you are losing yourself in fear and in Dracula's control. Spike will break it and you'll be free again. That's all."

She decided mentioning that the CPR moment included a naked Spike and her kissing him back and voices that were way too passionate.

"Do you want something to calm your nerves? Are you feeling-"

"No, not nervous. I can wipe the floor with Spike," Buffy said easily, rising and stretching.

Giles sighed. "Not to appear overly sympathetic, but do remember he's risking a great deal of pain for this. Pain is motivating in the sense of _avoiding_ it."

"I'll keep it to a gentle beating, okay?"

He sighed heavily, "Let me copy out the spell."

"Seriously, I appreciate his help. Oh, blech! Bad taste in mouth. I need mouthwash now. You have mouthwash, right?"

"In the medicine cabinet above the sink." Giles pointed down the hall. "Heading out?"

"Yeah! Before the gang arrives. Remember-"

"Cleansing ritual. Remembered. Take the blood."

"Remembered."

_To be continued..._

_Author's end note: _

_Thank you to those of you who have purchased and are reading the full length "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms: Shattered by S.C. Principale available on Kindle and Amazon. I appreciate your support. Since I don't know specifically who bought it- here's my general shout of thanks! _


	4. Part IV

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to:__KyanaM, Stuffn'Nonsense, Brokenblackrose, Pgoodrichboggs, Pentastic, SJwheelan, Teatime Turbulence, Omslagspapper, and Slayerette 16._

Part IV

She hit the door of the crypt with her usual attack-mode force, and then drew back before she made it open more than a fraction. She changed it to a knock. _This is an appointment. This isn't barge in and demand. This is- so weird. _

He came to the door and stuck his head through, quickly looking around. "Come in, then," he said impatiently. "Weren't followed?"

"No. No one knows about this but Giles. The story is that I'm doing a cleansing ritual. Alone."

"That might help, I s'pose."

"Well, it helps as a cover story, anyway. You were right about Riley freaking out if it was you. Only he seemed to think you wouldn't be able to perform."

He glared and walked away from her.

Be nice to him, you need his help! her inner Miss Manners shouted. "Here, from Giles." She hastily held out the box from the butchers'. "He said you ought to eat first."

"Why's it matter, since your boy thinks I can't get 'em up?" He swapped his handsome human features for the more grotesque vampiric ones.

"Spike, I'm sorry. I just meant- the chip is working in your favor, maybe? He doesn't suspect I'm asking you for help. I left it vague. He assumed Angel and I just… let him run with it."

"So Peaches will be getting a stake-o-gram from your tin soldier?" Spike but two containers in the microwave, back turned again. He felt jumpy and he wasn't used to this feeling. He couldn't remember having it since- since being in the Initiative, or in the Watcher's bathtub, all chained up. The feeling of not knowing what's about to happen, but it's probably going to go badly.

"I let him assume that's who I was asking for help. But I promised him I would try to look for another way to break Dracula's hold, and I am. Well, by I, I mean the gang is, and I'll help when I can. But we can try this first, since it's the only thing that we know will work."

"We don't know any such thing," Spike huffed. "We know it'd work if I can get to your neck without pain, and then there's the connection and the- other bits."

She blushed bright pink and swallowed. He looked at her as he waited for the timer to ring on his microwave. She waited for the crude teasing. It didn't arrive. "So. Um. Break any good gypsy voodoo spells lately?" she tried to joke.

He let out a laugh under a twisting smile. "Yeah, there was this vicious little blonde that almost took out the bastard, and I pulled her chestnuts out of the fire."

"You think I'm vicious?" _Why am I blushing again? That's not a compliment._

"Completely lethal, Slayer." He felt like he wanted to move closer. His legs were leading, or rather his hips, a swagger to begin some unknown dance- and the micro beeped. "Ah. I've got - uh- sod all for you. Sorry. No, I do have a beer left?"

"I don't think I can drink right now. I don't drink normally and I don't think I want my perception messed with. Had a lot of that last week."

"Might get you a little tipsy, wouldn't be so tense."

"I'm not tense!" Buffy retorted, voice sounding completely tense and edgy.

"Well, I bloody am! If you don't want it, I'll have it."

"Oh, no, no beer breath and blood breath, no."

"Oh, come on, when we were stuck in that spell, you fed me while sittin' in my lap, kissin' me every other sip! With tongue!"

"Do not bring that up!" Buffy hissed vehemently.

"Sorry!" Spike winced. And winced again for the meekness of granting an apology. "I mean. No. I'm not sorry. Just- fuck, Slayer, this is a disaster waiting to happen, you do see that, don't you?"

"I expected a lot more braggy, bite-y confidence," Buffy confessed- knowing she was only telling a half-truth. It was clear that mistakes would cause both of them pain and he had legitimate fear for his life, fear that she no longer had to endure around him, hadn't had much to begin with.

"Sorry 'bout that, it's the whole hand grenade in my head sensation that's a bit off-puttin'. Plus… you don't wanna be near me, not at all. Why are we foolin' ourselves thinking we can-"

"I don't mind being near you sometimes. Like now," Buffy interrupted. "I really do appreciate the help. A lot. I'm actually - really sorry that you could get hurt trying to help me," she sighed and tried to sound matter of fact, losing it halfway through the apology. "Anything I could do? Within reason?"

"Don't nag about me eatin' first. Your Watcher was right. If I do manage to get a little nip in, I don't want the demon forgettin' its manners and thinkin' we're invited to dinner."

"You're right. See? Look. Non-naggy Buffy. Anything else?"

"How many stakes are you wearin'?"

"Huh? Oh, I always have a couple on me." _Five. I'll admit to two. _

"Could you put 'em in your bag and put the bag on the - where are we gonna do this?"

"I don't know! This is your place, you tell me which place has biting ambience. And no, I'm not going to put down my stakes."

"You flinch and I get knocked to kingdom come, isn't that enough firepower, girl?" He glared at her. "I can't hurt you without hurtin' myself. I don't need bein' threatened on top of it."

"Fine. Stakes in bag, bag on this charming coffin." Buffy dropped two stakes from her pockets into the bag and set it down.

Spike drained each quart container rapidly. It had the instant effect that put the warmth in his veins, the color- pale though it was- in his cheeks. He relaxed a little bit. "All right. Try me."

"What?"

"You've gotta lead the bloody thing! Like we did with our hands!" Spike reminded her sharply.

"Oh. Right. Um. Can you-" _I can't say it_. "Can you please-" _Nope. I cannot ask to be bitten._ "I can't."

"Right, then. Toodle-oo, have a nice night. I hope you like sleepin' four in a bed. He never has less than three wives."

"Bite me. Now."

"Oh, there you go. You can do it as long as you're not nice about it." Spike came close to her and tried to move behind her.

"What are you doing?" Buffy demanded, turning with him.

"I'm trying to-" He moved, she circled with him. "I'm trying to get- Slayer, stop!" He finally halted. "I'm trying to get behind you. Bite you, remember?"

"What, from behind? No!"

He chuckled, dark and dirty, "Whatsa matter, Slayer? Boy only knows one position?"

His face stung briefly from her palm across it. "This. Isn't. About that," she ground out the words.

"I always bite from the side or the back. I'm sorry about the comment, I was- tryin' to lighten the mood. You kept circlin' with me like we were squarin' off for a fight."

"Dracula bit me face to face. Angel, too. The Master didn't, and um- I think I think of attacks as coming from behind."

"Right." He nodded with genuine understanding. "That's right, makes sense. Got it, gotta keep the enemy in sight. Only, if you let me bite you an' you still think I'm just an enemy, nothin' I say or do is gonna make a difference."

"Okay, fine. But you don't have to bite from behind, right? You can bite face to face?"

"I can- I- don't. Only ever with Dru. It was love. It was affection, Slayer. Intimate."

"Oh." Her voice was small. _That's right. Face to face. Into each other's eyes. Like we are now. Like we were earlier. Harder. Harder. Harder…_ "Intimate is supposed to be an ingredient here." Her voice was a small rustle in the suddenly too quiet crypt.

He nodded, wetting his lips. He put his hand slowly, slow up on her shoulder. Then let his hand touch her hair briefly. She was holding her breath. Her eyes watched him and her shoulders tensed. The machine gun heartbeat tripled. He stepped back. "You look like you're trying not to scream."

"Why are you touching my hair?"

"I thought you said intimate was good!"

"Oh, God! Seriously, let's just try this. Bite, right here, now." Buffy yanked her hair back and tilted her head over, eyes squinched tight.

"No! Everything about you screams 'This is gonna hurt!' I can't get any closer without someone shovin' a cattle prod into my frontal lobes."

"You're being a wuss."

"I'm being realistic. Watch. Tell me again."

"Bite. Now," she demanded, and he moved quickly. She jerked her head and let out a gasp, hand coming up between them- and without touching him found him cringing and rubbing his temples while cursing. "Sorry!"

"Okay. Don't move. Not gonna bite. Showin' you something." Spike held up his hands, panting raggedly and looking pained. "Watch."

Buffy stood still. He attacked, a hard punch to the left, to the right, center, uppercut, left, right. She dodged everything without doing more than a twist and bend. "Hey. You didn't-"

"I wasn't gonna touch you. See? I knew it. I knew my actions had no harm in 'em. Chip doesn't fire. But a hard, quick bite's gonna hurt unless you know somethin' I don't. An' you lookin' like you're braced for pain makes me think it's gonna hurt you and then- wham." He sat heavily in the chair.

"Well, I'm not quitting. You're right. I'll just- hold still. It won't take long."

Another ill-chosen thought attempted to slip past his lips, but he decided he didn't want another slap on top of the head trauma. _Hope she doesn't say that in bed. No. No, but Cardboard might._

Buffy could read the sudden shifting smirk that he quickly tried to hide. She knew what he was thinking. But since he didn't mention it, she tried to be mature and ignore it. "Does aspirin help? I think I have some in my bag."

"I wish, but no. Time and vampire healin', that's all that sorts it. Gimme a minute an' I'll go again."

It was her turn to smirk, and he saw it. "Just a minute?" she asked dubiously.

"Sometimes not even," he raised his eyebrows, which only served to make his face look somehow more- human. He watched her fuss with her hair and try to hide the startled look. "All right. Got the rep to live up to, now. Let's try this the Watcher's way." He flung his legs forward and dragged himself upright.

"Oh, the 'jaws are just body parts' method?" _Ew. Spike would have to just sit with my neck in his mouth like a dog with a tennis ball._

"Yeah, harder, harder, harder, contact." Spike went to circle around behind her again, finding her tailing him once more. "Oh, no for God's sake, Slayer! I can't do this with you looking at me. Can't you feel me behind you and know you're not in any danger? An' don't tell anyone I said that!"

"I'll try, okay? I'll try!" She flung her hair back, hitting him squarely in the nose, making him splutter. _This is very unsexy. I guess it isn't supposed to be anything else. Dracula was sexy- but not really. The knowledge was the tantalizing part. Everything else was just smoke and mirrors. _She felt him slip behind her more closely, one hand on her back, one hand smoothing her hair out of the way. _Spike is real. Very obviously real. _She let out a shuddering breath as his lips pressed above her pulse point, mouth closed.

"About here?" he asked, too loud for the closeness, and she jumped as his lips moved on her skin.

"Fine."

He remained there, lips slightly open. Oh, sweet little traces of salt and hormones, sweat and blood, all in the pores of her skin. Pores that blended together, giving her the texture of silk, but there was so much bloody power in her. How could you not just want to- his fangs shifted out with a low rumble and she gasped as if in pain.

And as soon as the thought "pain" registered in his mind, even fleetingly, the hammer dropped in his head. "Ow! Fuck it!"

"Spike! Sorry, I was still!"

"Why'd you gasp, you bint? Are you gettin' a laugh out of this?" He clutched his head and straightened up.

"No! No, I swear I'm not!" She found herself bending with him, supporting him, hoping that her face conveyed the genuine sorrow she felt. "Oh. Hey, is it just the blood exchange thing? What if I just cut my fingertip and-"

"If a vamp wants to 'mark' someone as his, he's gotta do a better job than that. Fangs required. I'll try it with you, face on. No gasping. You know it's going to pinch just a bit, but it'll be gradual, like the hand holdin'." At her reticent look, he pulled out the big guns. "You wanna be Mrs. Dracula? Didn't think so. No sudden moves."

Again, like a farce, two actors who couldn't find their marks on the stage, him in front, trying to line up, trying not to meet her eyes, get his mouth down, not feel her hands at her sides, stiff like a petrified victim. But at least this time she relaxed marginally against the press of his lips and she whispered, "Harder. Harder. More… Keep going… More."

Fangs descended and replaced teeth, and just as they broke skin she flinched and pulled away. He didn't get the headache, more like a warning zap. "What went wrong now?"

"I could feel it happening!"

"Where the hell is that spell?"

"No, no, I got it. Sorry. But - hey, you're upright and not hurting. That's progress."

"Yeah! It is. Not so much on the connection front, Luv. Gotta say, he must have put one hell of whammy on you…"

Buffy hesitated. "He could see the hunger in me. He called me a killer. I told him I liked slayer better and he said killer was the right word, just naked."

Slaying naked. Slayer naked. No, no, no, NO. "I suppose to our kind, you're a killer. But we don't call you that. Slayer is what you are. It's your title. An' you wanted to know what?"

"Where does it come from? Why is it hurting me, if it's supposed to be something so good?" Buffy whispered.

"It's hurting you?" Spike tilted his head. "Yeah. It does. Wears you down. You kill all night, night after night. You lose the sun. You lose the sun in your smile. The world gets hard, down to survival. Why shouldn't it hurt? Why shouldn't it be hard?" She opened her mouth, but he continued, "What you wanted to know was if you could make the pain better, maybe make it _stop_."

"Yes!" Buffy realized that was part of it as he spoke the words. _I want my power. I want to use it. I am stronger and faster and better … and I love the power. But I hate what it's going to do to me. Make me empty inside except for pain…_

He knew the answer. _What makes it stop? Death. That look of peace. But she's not ready for that answer. And it might not be the only one to a girl like her._ "You've been running this gig for longer than any other. Or at least, near about. You know why?"

"I'm hard to kill?"

"That, too. You're resourceful. You're talented. All that's great, but you an' me stay alive for the same reason. Love."

"Huh?" She had been falling forward as they talked, falling into his eyes and maybe into his arms, and now she recoiled.

"You got people to love. So did I. Any old vampire you meet, one who's passed a hundred, Slayer, look for what it loves. Maybe not a person, maybe a thing. Angelus- pain. The Master- his family, the worship of the whole bally line he made and how powerful they were. Drac- his power, what he can do with it."

"And you?"

"Drusilla. Slayers. Only I've lost all that now. But I remember enough, an' I'm not beat yet."

The words in her mouth bypassed her brain, that was the only excuse she could make. "You've still got one slayer here. And she- we- we're trying to find our powers together, so we can stay alive."

He visibly started. _Powers together? _

She swatted away the memory of the dream. _Staying alive. Drowning. As long as he doesn't say-_

"Sometimes it feels like you're sinkin', like you're drownin' in the pain, but you are a fighter, Luv. Me, too. So yeah, we'll- What? What'd I say now?" He stopped when she made a choking sound.

"Not a thing. I mean, nothing wrong," Buffy stammered. "Look at us. Talking. One could say connecting."

"Yeah, that's right. This is good. What'd you mean, when you said I still had a slayer?"

She trod carefully around the landmine of his question. "You and I are going to be even after this. I said so. Fresh start. If you help me with your power, I could help you with yours. Maybe we stay alive. We keep fighting. You can only fight what's evil, so by default, you're playing on my team."

He tried something, something that tugged at him, but didn't feel quite right, like cramming yourself into a tiny space. "My slayer."

She shivered, something twinged in her spine. "N-"

"I gotta. I gotta… make you something that's mine." His hand wrapped around hers, wrapped around her hair with the other, tilting her head back. "Let me kiss you."

"What?" She sounded utterly freaked, killing all of the mood.

But he was a fighter, hadn't they just established that? Had to keep going. "You made out with those boys in cars, Luv? Leavin' a little love bite for you to remember them by?"

"Not really," she gasped out as her own hands went across his back. _That is a _nice _back. Without the bulky coat in the way- uber nice back. And the chest. It is wrong that something evil has that kind of chest. Not fair. _

"Then I'll be the first. Love bite that lasts a little longer. My Slayer."

"Nnnn-" The protest died, but the sharp piercing sensation between her shoulder blades tingled again. She wanted to reject this closeness. But she needed it. And she was starting to want it.

"Spike, I-" Her hand tentatively sought out the stiff gelled hair, and he turned to look at her, predatory gleam in dark yellow eyes, fangs appearing under drawn lips.

She reacted- a quick jab to the nose, followed by his howl and her apology. "I'm sorry! Oh, oh, you looked all vampy and I-"

"Looked vampy, did I? Think it's cause I'm a _vampire_, maybe? Think it might be because you need a _vampire _to break the soddin' hold of _another vampire_!?"

"Is it broken?" She had the grace to look abashed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No! But what the hell do I gotta do to you? If it's not the chip beatin' me about the head, it's you! Do I gotta tie your hands behind your back or chain you to the headboard?" he cried in exasperation.

She stared, wide eyed.

That probably wasn't wise. And in no way should that sound like a good time. Not even the properly evil good time, like torture and imminent death. The- wet, writhing, breathy moans kind of way. "I-"

"I-"

"You can't hit me for doin' this," he said as she blurted-

"I'm not bondage gal."

"Oh. Oh, no, so much no," Buffy took a turn collapsing into the chair, mortified beyond reason, head in hands.

"I know! I know, I wasn't- we wouldn't. Well- we- Should we try this tomorrow?"

"Maybe," Buffy whimpered to her knees. "I can't even look at you."

"Oh, come on now, I've said far worse to you."

"No! I can't believe I said what I said. I'm dying of shame. You can have the credit for killing me if you want. I know that's a big life goal of yours."

He had to chuckle as he sank to his knees in front of her. "That's awfully sweet an' thoughtful of you, Buffy. Come on."

"Just let me die in peace."

"Not gonna happen."

She groaned and peeked at him with one eye. "I should have guessed that, huh? No way you're giving me an easy out?"

"About your death? No! About a tiny slip of the tongue- sure I will. I thought it was funny."

"You did? Oh, because I'm so pure and good, huh? And saying that was like the-"

"Sweetheart, I know you could do unspeakably deviant things if you want and still fight for innocents in between shagging someone into an alternate dimension. It was funny because we both went to the wrong places in our heads. I'm also laughin' in relief. You coulda slugged me instead of explainin' politely that it wasn't your bag."

_Under some part of that speech that should make me yell about his disgusting, perverted mind- I like what he said. He doesn't underestimate me. _"Is it yours?"

"Ooh, someone's getting brave."

"Well… connection."

Wonder what else comes under the heading of connection? Spike wondered briefly as he let his hand go to the armrest, fingers just brushing her elbow. "I could do a bit of it. I like it better when everyone's free to move about. Hands have so many muscles for a reason. Just think what they can do. Hundreds of things."

Hands around her neck, pulling her hair back, and hurting her. And hands that were soft, and gentle, exploring, touching her, stroking her hair away. Her own hands, caressing a handsome face, punching a vicious one…

He looked at hers. Tiny. But not weak. Gripping, digging in, twisting a neck like a jar with a stubborn lid. Hands that had chained him, fed him, touched his cheek as they planned a wedding.

"Got talents, you do…" he tried something. Picked up one hand.

"Harder?" she offered.

"Different game. Softer."

"Softer? Okay. Softer."

_Wait. I have a boyfriend. Riley._

_It's okay. It's just hands._

_His hand and my hand, linking up, and his hand hand starting to wonderingly trace over my arms and my neck, my face, like he's never met me before. Like he's blind and he's feeling his way, seeing by touch._

His finger passed over her lip, and she let out a puff of air, before her hands mirrored his.

Into his hair, into his scalp, soothing, down the back of his neck, over his shoulders as she leaned forward, and he pulled her. Into his lap on the floor.

"Dracula was quicker."

"That's not a compliment."

"So fast- I didn't know what was happening," she confessed. "Missed all the clues, stupid…"

"Tricky bloke. Trusting heart. Made to break. Needs a someone…" his hands pressed to either side of her face, steadying her, holding their gazes, " Needs someone who respects her. Won't break her, ever again. 'Cause she's his. 'Cause she's mine."

"His." Wow. One word should _not _do that to her body or her brain.

Kissed her on the mouth. Kissed her again and she kissed him back, and backwards, flattening him to the gritty stone floor.

Heads and hands, tangling and biting. He remembered this. This was how it happened. As long as she didn't overthink it, as long as he didn't ruin it.

"One kiss. Giles said- we only needed- one kiss," she spoke in fragments, broken by those needless kisses. But so hungry. And this- was filling.

"You only need to breathe to be alive, but it's the other stuff that makes the breathin' worthwhile."

His kisses changed intensity and trajectory. But so did hers. "Ohhhh, Slayer, you're good, you know that?"

"Tell me some more." No. She guessed. She guessed she was good. She hadn't been told. Angelus mocked it, then never spoke of it once he returned to his souled self. Riley told her she was beautiful and wonderful and he loved her. He didn't talk about their bedroom escapades in anything but pure sweetness. And she liked that. She liked him.

_I think I like Spike right now, too. Completely different way. And this has to happen. More intimacy than the other vampire, or it won't work. And this is sure working for me! _"But- we're not going to -"

"I'm gonna kiss you. Because you like it. And you're going to kiss me, because I like it. An' you're gonna do it 'cause your mine," he threw the word out with more authority.

"And you're going to do it because you're mine." She used the same phrase.

Oh no. His hand slammed into the ground beside her head and he let out a possessive snarl, a passionate one. "You're a bloody vixen. You know all the right moves an' you don't even try. When you make mistakes, you learn fast and you come back stronger. What you could do…" _Doesn't bear thinking about, because you're not going to get more than those sweet rosebud lips and this satiny skin, topped off with rubies, delicious little crimson gems that she's going to open up and let you swallow._

Sexual imagery was running rampant through both minds. She tried to ignore it the lustful feeling in her hips and tried to focus on things she hated about the man over her. _He's rude. He's arrogant. A cold hearted murdering- everything Dracula is, only Dracula's rudeness and arrogance come under the guise of being more polished than everyone else, and his murder comes with a side of sexual slavery. I think- if I had two choices- I'd pick the guy who wants to help me for real. Not tell me he has the answers but really just wants to add me to the collection. _

"You collect slayers?" she asked in a drifty voice.

"Not like you. There's no one like you. I'll never want another one now, that's the truth." He mauled her neck with his blunt teeth until he heard her keen in pleasure. Her knees split and he fell between them, more on top and middle, no more side and half over. "Knows how to snare him and keep what's hers, pretty cat with her claws," he purred against her neck and bit again, harder, still in human form.

She moaned, head lolling back. _Can't keep them. Not all of them. Lost Angel. Lost Parker. Keep Riley. Yes. And Spike. My vampire. I can have a vampire, too. Don't I have a vampire, too? S_he was hazy from blood pounding and rushing, and the feeling of his hands, moving all over her as desperately as she moved across him, digging herself into him. _This is my vampire. He's drowning in me. I'm drowning in him._ "Want you to…" _Want him to what? _

"Want you, too."

The bite wasn't painful, it was full of pressure, breaking skin with bruising love bites that would require turtlenecks and scarves, a champion of a hickey. A hickey that narrowed down to two tiny little holes, skin giving just as his knee slid up and hit her hard where she was softest, not pinning her, helping her. He bucked down into the bite, moaning as the blood flooded him, spurted in and overflowed, couldn't help gasping at how she tasted. Didn't want to waste a drop, and it was trickling down, moans needing to come out more than blood had to stay in. She arched up, eyes rolling back, holding herself to his black denim, slight undulations working with her short, sharp cry of pleasure. She gripped him hard as he lifted off, slamming her wet center to him one more time, before both would pretend that such a thing hadn't happened. That the sensation was more than connection- it was carnal.

He dragged his tongue over her wound slowly, taking some perverse pleasure that something hard of his had shuddered into a soft little place of hers, made her sob out his name in a good way. "How's my Slayer?"

She was quiet, nodding and pressing her hand to the bite. "You did it. No pain."

"All gain," he watched her struggle to rise and motioned her to wait. "You're heartbeat is still racin'. You lost a bit of blood, nowhere near enough to hurt, but don't want you faint from this. You faint from what I did, I'll get the world's first retroactive headache."

"Not good." She let herself recline, now sprawled beside him. The post-sex position. Sprawled, hot, sweaty, side by side, limbs sort of overlapping. Only no, there must be no overlapping. "How many bites was that?"

"One."

"Felt like- felt like it was a long bite."

"I got stamina. But, no, it was all the teasin' leading up to it. Didn't hurt, did it?"

"Not at all," she admitted easily.

"Never hurt my Slayer," he felt his eyes closing, head lazily rocking side to side. Felt it bump into hers and he slid his eyes sideways, until blue met green. He offered a smile and she met it with one of her own. "How do you feel?"

Buffy took stock of herself. "Not in pain, that's for sure. Not like I'm fighting something that doesn't feel right. When Dracula was around, he would say things and I'd do them, but I knew I shouldn't. I felt like I was moving through water. Drowning…"

"Well, I'm glad you're back on dry ground."

"I don't think the hold is broken, though. It feels…" Buffy rubbed her chest, hand nervously drifting to her stomach. Never mind that it felt tight and tense from the fear of this evening's activities. Never mind she added some odd, totally wrong lusty feelings that so should not happen and that Riley could never, ever, ever find out about. Now it felt like- being seasick. "I feel like something is pulling me in two directions."

"Hm. I guess it could be Drac's hold on you tryin' to pull you back to him. Or it could be fighting- my uh- my bid for you."

She sent him a scathing glare. "Bid? Like you got me at the victim auction?"

"No… like I helped you by trying to fight for you, anyway I could." He shut his mouth with a snap. _Shouldn't sound like that. She's not who I fight for, never was. Against, sure. Side-by-side with sometimes. What an effed up mess. Never should have done this. Why did I agree to this?_

_Fights for me anyway he can. Not like I need someone to fight my battles- only sometimes you do. I fight for everyone else, don't I? I loved when Angel made me feel like he was going to ride in and rescue me. Right until I didn't. And now I hate it. Because he was the kind of guy you thought was going to be the knight in shining armor, and you could be the knight in a pretty pink prom dress. You could slay the dragon together- and he climbed on his horse and rode out of town. Left because he couldn't fight beside me anymore. _

"I fight all my own battles."

"Yeah… all right. Sometimes you need a specialist, don't you? You consult your wicca for spells and computer help. You ask your Watcher for ancient gobbledygook and sacred trinkets and whatnot. You ask the boy when you- what the hell does the boy do for you again?"

"He doesn't have any powers, Spike, and that doesn't mean he stops trying. Also, surprisingly good with military and tactical planning. Also, construction. You'd be amazed how helpful that is."

"Fair enough. You needed a set of fangs." He flashed in and out of game face. "I got 'em."

_Reducing him to a body part. Ick. No. Not okay. Wait- don't I do that anyway? I see fangs and go "vampire" evil? _

_Maybe if you're going to get better at this, you have to retrain your brain. At least in some cases._ "It's not the fangs. If it was fangs, I could have asked any vampire to do this. No. It had to be you. I'm… oddly glad it's you." Her arm moved off her stomach and fell to her side- and onto his. They both jumped at the contact. Somehow out of context, it was unsettling.

And tempting. He didn't move away. _Let_ her _move this time. I already spent the night makin' moves and getting smacked for them, either by her hands or my electronics._

When he touched her- skin to skin- the queasiness was there. But it lessened. "If I'm calmer around you, does that mean the hold is breaking? Or- or like the polls are in your favor?"

"I'd go with the second one. If anything, it's probably a slim tie, and my proximity helps tip the scales just a bit." _Still not moving away. Hard to think. Hard to think about anything but her. Why'd she kiss me like that? I'm glad she did. Shit, why'd _I _kiss _her _like that? And the blood. That blood is every upper and aphrodisiac known to a vamp, an' what use am I going to put it to? _He shifted his hips, uncomfortable, suddenly aware that beside him she was doing the same. Moving her legs restlessly. _She got off on that bite. _

_You don't know what happened. It could be- could be like adrenaline overload, she wanted to fight being bitten, all hot and bothered, churned up inside- lashing out and keeping it in, all at once._ "All that control," he breathed.

"Yeah, he has it long-distance, too. If he were still in town- I'd probably be going completely insane, huh?" Buffy didn't want him to move. _Maybe if we do the second bite now, this will all be over, the weird dream, the kissing and confusion. The constant fear that I might inadvertently get arrested for speeding while walking, thanks to our friendly vampire exchange student and his astrophysical version of speed. _

"Not his control. Yours. Any other girl would have begged him to turn her, just to be near Ol' Spooky and his pretty blue eyes and his talcum powder face."

"So… I want to be near them? To feel better?"

"Them?"

"The ones with the bond. Dracula and you." Her voice was tiny on the last word. _I do feel better touching him. I don't like that. I don't want him to have the bond, I don't want anyone to have it!_ "This is frustrating."

"All kinds of frustrating," he agreed. _What now?_ "Come again?"

"No- I - I just was squirmy," Buffy blurted.

"I meant elaborate," he said slowly, deliberately, looking at her panicked face from the corner of his eye.

"I don't like feeling like I have to depend on someone."

"No one likes _having_ to, but _wanting_ to isn't so bad," he said easily. "Knowing someone's got your back. That's nice."

"Until they leave. Or switch sides."

"I did that for her own good! She woulda died! You think I could watch that bastard put my girl in hell?"

"Not you. My hang ups. Not yours."

"Maybe we have some of the same. Don't worry. I'll get you outta this. That you can depend on. See what I did?"

"Yeah. Hey- can you do it again? Another bite and get this over with?"

_Her bedroom manners need work. No, no, wait. Not bedroom. _"Sure. Come here," he motioned lazily. "Go a heck of a lot easier this time, right?"

"Right. No, stop!" Buffy suddenly struggled upright. "What if it doesn't count?"

"I'm lost. You drive." Spike didn't bother rising, and reclined, arms now crossed and pillowing under his head.

Buffy paused. _He looks good stretched out. Did he grow extra muscles or something? Was his chest always that long? And tight? Argh! No, no ogling the helpful vampire. _

_Hey. Weird new thought. I like it better than evil, snarky vampire_.

"I'm not gettin' any deader here, Luv," he prodded her leg with his booted toes.

"Helpful but snarky," she muttered under her breath.

"Fits me, don't it?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"What if you have to bite me on two separate days? Like, because- well, I couldn't even tell how long it was."

"My ego, precious," he winced.

"No double entendres right now, I can't handle it," she cried, exasperated. "The bite didn't hurt. It was- the whole thing- was good. Oddly, sickeningly good. And I'm sorry if that's insulting. I just mean- I wasn't aware of a painful biting sensation like I could keep count. With all the kissing and -"

"Necking?"

"Yes! That! So, what if it has to be separate incidents? Or even on separate days?"

"That's a Watcher question. I never studied the preise requirements. Although," Spike finally joined her, sitting upright, "he is a ruddy powerful one. He's the only one I know that won't come along quietly after two good stakes to the heart. Overkill might be better. Break it good and proper."

"You think that's necessary?"

"I think it's your life, Buffy. You like livin' set to high speed, we gamble. Anyway, you'll know if it worked after another bite. We could do it now."

"No," Buffy felt herself wanting to say yes. But she said no because it felt far too comfortable. She was having trouble remembering why she ever wanted to stop touching him. And when she pulled away, she had funhouse stomach, full of sudden dips and spins. "I feel out of it."

He rose to his feet, concern on his face. "You gonna be okay to get home?"

"Sure."

"I'd offer to walk you, but if Finn catches me within a mile of you-"

"He doesn't know a thing. I promise." She grabbed for her bag unsteadily and gasped when he took her wrist.

"You can't leave like that."

"I- I- Look, it's not like I want to get what I need and then go- at least, not entirely. But I feel strange and I want to talk to Giles about some stuff before we- do anything else."

Spike let go of her arm. "I meant you have an obvious bite. You can't go home to Joyce like that. She'll kill me. I won't have that."

Buffy blinked. "You're afraid of my mom hurting you?"

"Hello, yes! Besides, she'll think it's not proper."

"Not proper?" Buffy slowly shook her head, trying to clear it.

"The bitin' and snogging! She'll have a new piece in the gallery 'Study in Ashes' and I'll be the bleedin' central figure. Didn't you bring a scarf or one of those frilly shirts that covers up your neck?" he demanded.

"I- didn't. Actually. Which was dumb, and I won't do that tomorrow night. No rubbing it in. I'll just turn the collar of my- where are you going?"

"Stay!" he ordered and suddenly shifted something large and grating, then dropped. Buffy gasped. "Don't you tell anyone about this!" his muffled voice shouted up.

"You have a basement?" She came closer to the edge of the squarish hole in the floor .

"Yeah, you could call it that! Hang on." Downstairs, he rootled through some of Harm's leftover paraphernalia and bypassed it all. Nothing elegant. The Slayer wasn't elegant. But… she was in a league above Harmony, by far. Astronomically far. He groaned disgusted with himself and went over to a scarred foot locker and reached down to the very bottom. Sketches and poetry, nubs of candles, and - there. Long, wrinkled black silk. It had matched her shining ebony hair, caught the blue-black of her eyes in the moonlight.

"And she doesn't need it anymore. An' Slayer'll take care of it and give it back," he whispered, running it through his hands, pressing it to his mouth and nose and inhaling. Faint, faint traces of that long-loved, oft missed scent.

He made his voice strident, "Got somethin' you can borrow to stop anyone askin' nosy questions."

Buffy backed away from the opening in the floor as he rose through it, took the dark object he held out.

"Not your style, but it-"

"It's pretty. Wow, the embroidery on it… Wow. Thanks for the loan." She looked at him, not looking at her. She knew who it belonged to. Her hands felt clumsy and talentless, touching something that she shouldn't have, that he was sharing. Like this whole thing. This whole thing was about sharing stuff we shouldn't have.

"Here." He wrapped it over once and across, pausing before covering up his handiwork. _Those little marks in her skin. Me inside of her. I did that. I held her while she moaned and bled for me, pressed her hot little opening into me. I know what she needs to know. I don't like it. I don't know whether or not I should tell her. Or when._

_When I can admit she held me, moanin' just as loud, wanting her just as bad. _

"What is it?"

"I look good on you," he whispered and ran a finger over the bite before he could stop himself.

She backed up, fear in her eyes. Not of him. Something else.

_Because you liked it. Not the control. Not the bite. The feeling. Touching the dark… and the dark is comfy with you. Rolls on top of you and purrs, moans in your ear and licks your blood like one very large, very dangerous panther. _

"Good night," she backed away as he dropped the last fold of silk against her skin, concealing what they had shared.

"I'm s- good night." _I'm not apologizin'. It does. I do._

_Oh hell._

_What's that supposed to mean?_

_To be continued..._

_Author End Note: Thank you again for those of you who are reading the "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms:Shattered by S.C. Principale. Definitely a closed bedroom door sort of book- just fair warning. _


	5. Part V

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…

_Dedicated to:__KyanaM, Stuffn'Nonsense, Brokenblackrose, Pgoodrichboggs, Pentastic, SJwheelan, Teatime Turbulence, Susan Marie S. Three March Hares, Omslagspapper, and Slayerette 16._

Part V

"What does all of this mean?" Xander asked the same question for the tenth time. Riley had stopped looking at books hours ago. He sat with one in his lap, silent and sullen.

"You could have asked me how to break a hold. It's completely simple," Anya sighed.

"Do enlighten us, after four hours of pointless searching?"

"Oh, no, the searching isn't pointless. You said you wanted to find a spell or ritual to reverse a vampiric hold. We haven't found one. Because, as far as I know, there isn't one, so searching for one _would_ make lots of sense. Very pointy."

"But then- the simple?" Tara looked over at the oddly complacent ex-demon.

"It's not a spell. Or a ritual. I _suppose_ you could consider it a ritual. I think technically the term would be a course of action."

"Then _what is it?_" Riley spoke, or rather snarled, for the first time in over an hour.

"Another vampire who is stronger than Dracula bites her and calls her kindred. Only he has to do it more often. Whatever they did, the new vamp does it two or three times more. That's all. Poof. No more Dracula attachment."

"That sounds like a really great attachment for vacuums. The Dracula! Gets those hard to clean blood stains out of carpet!" Willow giggled.

"Will! This is serious," Xander snapped, his voice cracking with stress. "Where do we find a vampire stronger than Dracula? The guy just _talked_ to me and I went insectivore! Pus, not- killable by normal vampire slayer methods. He's the mega vamp, the cape, the hairline, the accent- he's the whole package!"

"Yes," Giles' thoughtful tone focused all of them, calmed them somewhat. "That's an excellent question. "What if we can only find a very skillful, older vampire, a few centuries perhaps, but nowhere near Dracula's level of power? No thrall, no parlor tricks. Is that enough?"

"Is it like math? Like balancing the scales?" Tara asked timidly. "Like um- ten of Angel's bites will equal one of Dracula's?"

"I don't know. Since it's based on physical connection and intimacy with the biter and bitee, there's probably not a set ratio. Like Xander and me. I hated all men, but then I fell in love with Xander, and this one man makes me forget about all other men and over 1100 years of vengeance."

"That's love right there," Xander looked proud as he leaned over and kissed her smiling lips.

"Angel's two hundred and something, oh- and he is related to the Master, so that's some kind of innate power on the demony side, right? And Angel and Buffy have a really intense connection, so-" Willow's words were cut off by a book hurtling past her head and shattering a mirror in Giles' entryway.

Riley was up, hulking and imposing over all of them as Giles scrambled to his feet, rage and rationality warring for the dominant position on his face. "All of you, making jokes. A vacuum? Scales and math? My girlfriend is possessed by an evil, murdering, bloodsucking vampire who left us with the mess to clean up so that she doesn't stay susceptible to him for the rest of her life- which could be cut short if he comes back to town anytime soon. And your idiotic solution is to make it worse? Pass her around from vamp to vamp, let her get punctured full of holes who knows how many more times, wondering when it'll all magically 'balance'? Are you insane?"

"Calm down, man! No one wants to do that!" Xander held out his hands soothingly, stopping inches from Riley's chest. "No need to throw stuff at the people who love her and want to help her."

"Help her how? Buy her a ticket to LA? Or offer to drive her down so she and Angel can meet up in one of the nicer demon slime pits while he feeds off of her?"

"Um- actually, he's refinishing a nice historic hotel in LA, and Cordelia says his taste in furniture is improving and - I'm shutting up now." Willow finished hastily.

"Oh great. A hotel. With dozens of rooms for him to gamble with his soul using parts of _my_ girlfriend."

"That is not how this goes. That is not what this is about. This isn't Buffy's mess, nor did she ask us to clean it up." Giles rose and moved slowly to Riley. "I am upset. You are upset. We are all upset. Show of hands if you're upset with Dracula?" All hands shot into the air. "Please keep them up if you're upset with Buffy?" Five hands plummeted down, and although all of them dropped, one was the standout in its slowness. "She did everything she could. More than any other human can do, and you're angry at her for that?" Giles demanded frostily.

"I didn't say I was! My hand isn't up!" Riley protested.

"But it was- for a second," Anya pointed out. "Of course you're angry. You feel betrayed. It's like she had an affair. And you're afraid that to fix it she'll have more 'affairs' only the man doesn't put anything inside of her- oh, well fangs. Which is symbolic, I suppose."

Riley seethed. Xander shook his head, "Not helping. On many levels, not helping."

"But, yes, I am. Because, see, he thinks somehow she could have avoided this, and so he's blaming her. Maybe not consciously. Or, he's insecure because of the need to have a vampire help her, and since it has to be a trustworthy vampire, we have to go with the only one we know who has a soul, which is Buffy's ex. Am I doing good? Would the crazy psychology lady be proud?"

"I'm not mad at her. I'm mad at the situation. And I'm not sure that Angel is 'trustworthy' soul or no soul."

"Definitely not without the soul," Willow mumbled.

"You're all forgetting the best option. Take out Dracula! Finish the job!"

"Buffy's not likely going to be in any shape to-"

"Why does it have to be her?" he demanded angrily. "I can do this."

"With all due respect, that's doubtful. Perhaps you and your unit- or your entire battalion. But not just you," Giles informed him quietly. _Is that what sticks in your craw? That you can't do what she does? One tiny woman alone outperforms you?_ "Riley, help me sweep up. The rest of you, see if you can cross-reference Bonds of Blood with Histoire La Trois Mairee, see if we can find anything about how his brides were turned, anything unusual, any attempts that were made and failed, on either side."

"Giles, I'm really sorry. I lost my temper. I'm not the throwing things kind of guy, believe me," Riley's tone was genuinely contrite as they walked to the kitchen together and Giles got a small broom and dustpan. "I'll replace it, of course."

"I'm angry, too. At myself. That I failed to protect her. That I found myself easily and completely overwhelmed by three beautiful demon brides. But, you can't keep being angry at Buffy to disguise that you're angry at the situation and what you couldn't do. None of us did any better. She, when you consider all things, did the best. As she should, being the Slayer." Silence met his words, and Riley methodically took the brush and swept.

"Why didn't she tell me before you?" Riley suddenly whispered. "She told you first. Then Willow."

_And Angel, then Spike. Then you._ "She was afraid of your reaction. Doesn't that seem telling, Riley?" Giles held his eye.

Riley stammered slightly, "T-telling me what?"

"She doesn't get flustered by demons, apocalypses, vampires, staring death in the face night after night- but she was afraid of you. That you'd be upset. If you resent her power, just consider how much you truly hold over her."

Riley looked stunned. Reflective. Giles managed to hide a pleased "Ahah!" smile. Now, he'll see it. He'll realize that she really does care, and he needs to help her, not keep trying to prove something. If all of us wasted time trying to prove we're better than the other, or better than her, we-

"But that's not how it should be," Riley said slowly, shaking his head, brow creased, eyes despairing. "I'm the one she should count on the most. I'll be there for her. I love her. The relationship- I mean, no offense, but couples have a bond that others can't reach."

Failure to launch, Giles thought bitterly. _And you're presumptuous. This little group has outlasted couples of every shape and size, Cordelia, Jenny, Oz, Angel- are you next?_ He spoke calmly, "We've been with her for longer, we are- we are the fixtures. She knows that -"

"She can count on you, but she can't count on me?"

"We know she does! But our relationship is obviously different. You can't judge the-"

"There seems to be a lot of things that I 'can't' do."

"To be fair, there are a lot of things that she can't do, either. But she doesn't give up, Riley."

"I'm not a quitter, Giles."

He looked relieved. Inside, his heart didn't mirror that emotion. "I'm glad. I know Buffy will be grateful for your support and your help while she deals with this- this unfortunate incident."

"Yeah, I'm sure she will," he replied with a hollow smile, no conviction behind his words. "I'm gonna head out."

"Perhaps we should all call it a night. Rather an exhausting session for little knowledge gained."

Oh no, Riley thought to himself. _I've gained a whole lot of knowledge._

_I know she trusts them the most. I'm the boyfriend. But they still outrank me._

_I know that they don't get it. That in their eyes, Buffy can do no wrong. They don't see this for what it is, digging her in deeper with sick vampire games. All of them are - too close. They've lost their ability to see clearly, too long on the Hellmouth._

Thoughts swirled around as he bid falsely cheerful goodnights to the others, the two couples departing in separate cars, Giles locking his front door behind them.

_Maybe this thing, this biting thing, will fix her head. But I still won't know where her heart is._

* * *

She jumped guiltily when the phone by her bed rang. Almost midnight. Could it be Giles? Or Willow? Riley. It was probably Riley. She had wanted to call Giles, but simultaneously she hadn't wanted to call, afraid of interrupting a research session. "Hello?"

"Hi, Buffy."

"Hi, honey." Buffy's voice was relieved and warm. _At least he still calls, he can't be too mad._ "How was research. Please tell me you found something?" _Something less wiggy and confusing than making out with Spike until I can't tell a love bite from a blood-letting bite._

"Nothing. The vampire challenging Dracula's hold is the only thing that anyone even mentioned. Or killing Dracula. I like that option better."

"Me, too," she sighed.

"Really?" He sounded hopeful.

This sigh was regretful, "Not until I break this hold. I don't know if I can fight him to the death, or if it'll just be another draw. And I don't know where he is. And I can't take off on a world trip with college starting in two weeks."

"So. You're going to LA?" Riley asked sharply.

"Huh? Why would I- oh. Oh, to see Angel. Um. Well… I have to see if he'll help. A-and you know, you guys just started looking. There might be something you haven't found. Sometimes we research for days, weeks, before we get that big break."

"Okay," Riley sounded relieved. "I'm worried about you. Are you feeling any better? Did the ritual help?"

"While I was doing it, I felt better," she said ponderously. "Now that I'm done- I feel the same way I did earlier." _With an added bonus of swoopy stomach and … something else. Hunger's not the right word. Craving._

"I can come over?" Riley suggested. "See if I can make you feel better?"

"Oooh, paging Dr. Finn," Buffy giggled softly, perching on her bed. That'd be a nice distraction, and certainly would take the edge off. "Why don't you- uh- hang on." Catching sight of herself in the mirror, her eyes widened and her voice dropped. Deep puncture marks, fresh, not going to be passed off as those of a previous bite. And then- oh wow. A string of light, yellowing bruises that would be gone in hours. No one could leave a mark on her for long, which she supposed ought to make her the envy of every other teenager who wanted to hang out in Lover's Lane. Never had a love bite that lasted. Only bites of the regular kind. Even Angel- he never did that sort of "necking" because he couldn't risk the temptation.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, uh, I just thought about the steps- of that ritual? I wish you could come over, but I think I'm still in the solitary 'cleansing' zone. If I get all cozy with a certain handsome guy, it's probably going to undo what I just did."

"Yeah, Giles mentioned it was a lot of physical and mental 'attunement' and you needed to isolate yourself from distractions. You know, he's pretty quiet, but you get him going on rituals and spells, and he's hard to shut up."

"No kidding. My first years with him were not so much fun for Buffy-brain. Oh man, I was probably so rude to him in the beginning. In my defense, he treated me like a tool for a job for the couple months."

Riley's brow wrinkled in confusion. "You were just a kid. I can't believe he would do that to some little girl."

Buffy's face morphed into something thunderous. "I was just a girl. Okay, and I was little by default. I'll never be what they call statuesque. And Giles knew more about being a slayer than I did. He just couldn't see past the Chosen part of Chosen One. You know, oblivious to the individuality?"

"You could never tell that now. He was totally defending you."

"Defending me? From what? Who said something? Did Xander say something? Or was it Anya? I bet it was Anya, she has NO filter."

"Yeah, she's pretty blunt. No, she said you need to - to break a hold with another one. Isn't that just going to double your stress and the weird feelings you have?"

Buffy paused. She breathed deeply and felt the buzzing in her chest. It wasn't worse. Unconsciously, she ran a fingertip over the tender, red spots on her neck. Eyes closed, and she pressed her hand to it harder, leaning into it. Feeling phantom pressure, him above her, between her- even inside her.

The buzzing stopped, and the craving overwhelmed. She answered in a breathless voice. "I don't think so."

Riley heard the shift in her breathing. "Are you thinking of Angel?" he asked before his common sense could override that idiocy. Way to piss off the girlfriend.

"No," Buffy answered honestly.

He waited for the anger and shrewishness. Nothing. "You okay?"

"I just want to lie down." _Spike. Lying on top of me. Oh my God. That shouldn't have happened. Tomorrow night, not going to happen. I'll use the spell. Shouldn't have these feelings. Not these feelings._ "Tired now."

"Of course, Sweetie. Be careful, okay? Do you want me to take you to the doctor? Maybe they can do something for that rapid heartbeat?"

"Maybe. If it doesn't settle in a couple days. Giles told me the longer Dracula is away, and the farther he goes, the less I'll feel the hold. It ought to get better soon."

Riley realized she'd never gotten back to asking what Giles had defended her from. Which would be defending her from his own outbursts. Strategic retreat time. "I'll check in tomorrow morning?"

"Can that be late tomorrow morning? Sleep-deprived Buffy."

"Late tomorrow morning. Doughnuts?"

"Best boyfriend. Thank you. Jellies, please?"

"All the jellies for you, honey. I love you."

"Night, Baby. I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

* * *

She laid down. She sat back up. This was a pattern. Into clothes, all dark. A dark turtleneck, too. She hesitated, and then took the beautiful night-colored scarf Spike had slipped around her neck and lovingly wrapped it around her own throat, fingers lingering where silk met skin.

"Oh, something is so wrong. So, so wrong. I need a kill."

She jammed stakes in her pockets and waistband. "A slay. I need a _slay_."

* * *

He shot the balls with perfect accuracy, one after the other, calling them out without missing one. Everything was heightened. Senses. Strength. Libido. He looked lustfully at a petite blonde who served his whiskey and left it on the edge of the scarred felt table.

Pale copy. No fire.

"One more shot and you owe me a fifty. Ran the table," Spike broke off with a grunt and took his final shot. He looked at the humans surrounding him in the dive bar north of the college. Final ball rolled in, perfectly. "Pay."

"Don't show your face in here again," one burly figure snarled.

"I won't, once you pay," Spike puffed smoke in his face, not easily intimidated. The blokes didn't know he couldn't land a punch.

"Take your money and go."

So he went. But he couldn't relax. Even the faintest trace of headache was gone. I_'m so buzzed. It's not fun when you don't have anything to kill. Or…_ The blonde waitress passed him a napkin with her number on it. He smiled and crumpled it when she wasn't looking. _Never had a human before. Not in bed._

She was so hot when she pressed to his leg. Could feel heat even through two layers of denim. When he was inside her-

"Oh hell no. No." Spike threw his glass on the floor, storming out. He'd had a horrible, stupid, vile thought.

That he'd have a human in his bed. A human he craved, and who craved him. Who wanted him, was his, connected to him like he'd never been connected to anyone. Beautiful and powerful, everything you could want, really.

Except he hated her. Yes, of course he did, and he in no way was thinking soft, soppy, curious thoughts about if she'd ever want him like he was thinking of wanting her.

The Slayer. Dracula owed him eleven pounds for cards, and a billion for aggravation, confusion, and self-loathing.

"I need to kill somethin'," he muttered in a dark, bruising voice.

* * *

The sounds that greeted him confused him. He knew those sounds. They were familiar and evoked unpleasant memories. Slayer's fighting sounds. Little exclamations as she landed blows.

_I want to watch her in action._

_I want to help her._

_I want to fight her._

_No. Not that last one._

_Bloody hell, what happened?_

* * *

He came upon the sight, four to one, and she was holding her own without the slightest effort. But that didn't matter. She didn't have the monopoly on killing evil in this town.

_Actually, she does. An' she might get a bit possessive over that just now._

_Well, who cares? I need a kill just as bad. She's got outlets. She can shag Soldier Boy. She can punch out anything she wants._

* * *

Buffy blinked as a ringing roar halted her fight, and a leather tornado landed in the midst of her and four vampires. Now five. "Oh, come on!"

"Look," Spike spoke to her as easily as if they were having coffee while lounging about, despite the fact that he was raining blows on the biggest of the assailants. "There's four of them and two of us. Two apiece is fair."

"But I was here first!" Buffy protested angrily. She kneed one and sent him spinning into another.

"But you can fight day or night! I'm on half shifts, here!" Spike rammed one's head into a large marble grave marker.

"You can fight in the tunnels!" Buffy glared.

"I avoid them when I can. Not pleasant. Full of muck in places." Spike gave her a disgusted look.

"So what, you prefer the open air battles?" Her tone had become less testy, more teasing.

"I love a nice brawl on a clear night. And after this, how about a lovely moonlit picnic," he held out his hand, high in the air, and without asking she threw the stake he wanted, "and some star-gazing?" he offered in a mocking voice as dispatched the snarling vamp.

"Real romantic, how could any girl refuse?" _Actually… that doesn't sound terrible._ He tossed the stake back and she caught it without varying her attack. A one-two punch, stake, stab, twist, and she stood in a double shower of dust as he finished the last one with a savage ripping of head from neck.

They stared at each other, breathing hard, a few feet apart. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked casually.

"Nope."

"Needed a kill?"

"Slay. A slay."

"Synonyms, Pet."

_They are, aren't they? Like family and kindred._ "Semantics are kicking my ass lately," Buffy restlessly shifted her shoulders. The moshpit in her stomach lessened abruptly as he stood beside her. _That's weird. And helpful. Like him._

"I'd offer to do it for you, but I've been side-lined."

"I don't know… you didn't look like you were warming any benches two seconds ago."

He smiled at her, unintentionally, unplanned, almost sweetly shy. Then he barked, "Look what you made me do!"

"Huh? What? Did you rip your precious coat or smush your cigarettes? I didn't ask you to fight!"

"You made me- smile at you. Not in a smug, 'I'll eat your heart for afters' way."

"So much ew."

"This arrangement between us- I told Rupert it was gonna be more than nuts and bolts. It wasn't going to work out because we have to- I have to want you to be mine. An' you have to want to belong to me. I know you don't. An' frankly, I don't turn folks without a purpose, an' I never claimed or put a hold on anyone, not even Dru, though I wanted to. I'm picky, like Drac, but for a damn different reason. I didn't do it 'cause I didn't want to. I only want to be 'close' if I can feature someone livin' around me for years and years."

Buffy breathed shakily through her nose. _Is he telling me the deal is off? I can't have this feeling of being half-finished. I can't… I _won't_ beg him._ "So… it won't work?" she asked in a weak voice, all the manic supernatural energy suddenly draining, squashed flat with sadness, incomprehensible sadness.

"You don't want this, Baby," Spike reached for her and then dropped his arm hastily. "You know that."

"I know I don't. But I don't want to belong to him. Spike…" the words choked her. "Spike?"

"What?"

"I don't lie to you, you know?"

"Stands to reason. You don't care what I think of you."

_That's right. I don't. And that might help now._ "You don't have to believe me."

"I will." He had absolute conviction. But what could she be about to say?

"I don't even really believe me. But it's true."

"Out with it, Slayer, the suspense is killin' me, and that's quite the feat seein' as I'm already dead."

"I don't know why. I don't understand it. But I know a few vampires. The kind you talk to, deal with. Not just stake. I loved Angel. I hate Harmony. Dracula confuses me and annoys me and I so hate him for this stunt. But you- you I could see being around. In my town. And you keep coming back, and you're not leaving. Why?"

"It suits me."

"That's all?"

"I like being where slayers are. You're here."

She started walking, he fell into step. "I'm sorry to get you into this mess. I know it's a long shot."

"Hey, now. You're the patron saint of long shots, Slayer."

"There are times when you talk to me, not down to me."

"I don't look down on you anymore. 'Cept for your taste in men. That's a bleedin' nightmare."

She sighed.

"What are you getting at? Just say it."

"If I had to belong to someone, I'd rather it be you. I still want it to be temporary, but… I think you see me the most clearly. And I think I see you pretty clearly, too."

"That's a laugh. You see us all alike, except for Peaches, him an' his removable soul."

"You're annoying. You're rude. You're a good fighter. You have no morals when it comes to killing people. But you have loyalty, and patience, and you loved someone once. You kept her scarf all this time, and you lent it to me because you wanted to help get through this without more awkwardness than necessary. You don't like when people underestimate you. You don't like when they underestimate me. That's probably part of the reason you hate Angel and Riley." She finished, crossing her arms, and then gasped. "Oh. I mean- not that Riley-"

"Look whose honesty showed up tonight and brought along some friends. It's okay. I won't tell him."

"I didn't mean it like that. He just doesn't get everything yet," Buffy told him- told herself.

And he's not going to find out, Spike thought. "You'd choose me?" _Over Angel? Ha. Take that, Forehead._

"Out of my limited options," she clarified, then gave him a hint of a smile. "I forgot to say you have a really big ego and I don't want to feed it anymore."

Silence. Walking past rows and rows of headstones, checking for open graves. "You're not scared of your job anymore."

"Nope."

"You're at home in the dark. With the dead."

Denial blossomed and flowed in her chest, and then- "I am. I'm… I feel like darkness is around me and I'm absorbing it."

"Wearin' you down?" He gave her a speculative glance.

"No. I don't know. Maybe. Yeah." _Depends on the night, or who fights next to me, who I fight with, what I have to deal with the next morning. More powerful than ever… More needy than ever. Something's off, not filled. A vacancy inside and I thought maybe knowledge would fill it up._

"That was blindingly clear, Luv. We'll stick with a possible 'I don't know' for now," Spike chuckled.

She wasn't laughing. "He said my darkness rivaled his own."

"Mhm. Well, he would, wouldn't he?" She stared at him and he sighed. "He wanted you to want him. He wanted you to think you belonged with someone like him, all dark an' moody."

"It's not just him that says that. Well, not just him that thinks it. Riley does, too. He thinks I've got a thing for vampires."

"Then you'd be on your back with more customers than you could service, Luv. This is a Hellmouth. There are hundreds of us a year. I've only ever seen you kiss one. Okay, two, but I don't count. It was a spell."

Earlier tonight, guess it's technically last night at this point, wasn't a spell, Buffy thought. "You don't think I'm like that? Dark? I will skip over the insanely horrific word picture you attempted to paint."

He stopped. Came close to her and inhaled, thinking. "Wouldn't he love it… wouldn't_ I_ love it… if you didn't belong to the light anymore? If you were down here in the dark, rollin' about with me?"

She didn't even know her stake was back in her hand. Didn't know why her fingers wouldn't form a solid fist around it, ready to strike at him for all he was insinuating, for how much he was in her space. And then- he stopped, an inch away, blue eyes boring into hers. "I like you in the sun. I'm the only vampire who's ever seen you in it. You fight in the day as hard as you do in the night, you don't care who's watching, you just get the job done. Drac would have said whatever he wanted to get you to want him, Baby. But he didn't know you. Didn't study you. _I'm_ the one who does that. You're at home in both worlds, with your little mates in the sun, and down here with us monsters in the darkness. There's no one like you. And that's…" he swallowed the bitter realization, "that's why we want you. Why I want you."

"W-want me?" No other words would come out.

He winced, his whole body and face seeming to do some painful, deep- down shiver like they could shuck off emotions he didn't want to have or feel. His hand shot out and gripped her wrist, the one with the stake, and she dropped it in surprise at how fast and ruthless his grip was.

But he didn't talk.

_Actions are shouting enough. Wants me. Doesn't want to want me._

She twisted her arm, until it wasn't a brutal circle of fingers around her wrist, but two hands, palm to palm, gripping, challenging. "I don't want to want you, either."

He blinked, startled. _If she doesn't want to- is she saying - she does want me, against her own best instincts?_

She nodded into his blank stare. _Won't say more. Won't spell it out. Don't understand it. Don't like it._

_Want it, need it, have to find it. Have to know._

This was gonna hurt him. Hurt later, when it was done, but he had to. Had to know. Had to try. It would give him no peace, she never had, not since the very first day he laid eyes on her. Funny how he still had blood lust, but it was transformed now, with the blood becoming secondary.

A slow snarl, like a growl that came from the center of his chest. She could feel the reverberations under her hand. Gripped her harder and pulled her closer, frustration on every smooth angle of that face. "Spike."

"Shh."

She squeezed his hand back. _Is this a game? Who can outlast the other in this stupid tension that's not helping me feel any better, just building and building and I'm going to explode before he-_

"Kindred, Buffy," he whispered, eyes suddenly melancholy, almost forlorn. This won't work. Could feel her heart hammering against his hand, feel her pulse jumping through his fingers. His free hand went up, traced a loose hair back from her shocked face, his eyes roving over it. For any sign, any crumb that it was welcome, that it was unwanted, anger, desire- something.

"For now?"

It was like the dream, but he could see her lips move. He heard the words louder in his own head somehow.

He promised, "For now."

Her lips were moving again, but her mouth had gone dry. The tugging sensation that went in two different directions threatened to rip her down the middle as she prepared to say something incredibly ludicrous and dangerous. _But I have to. I have to find… it. Whatever it is._

He flinched when her hand appeared in his periphery. And stroked down, barely touching him. Eyes were too bright. Lips were trembling. _Oh no. Oh, no, wait don't do that, don't you dare._ "Buffy-" he sounded urgent, eyes widening, his grip on her other hand suddenly loosening, pushing back.

Too late. A whisper stroked his ear the way one lone finger trailed across his face. "Kindred, Spike."

To be continued...

_Author's End Note: Thank you again for those of you who are reading the "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms:Shattered by S.C. Principale. Definitely a closed bedroom door sort of book- just fair warning._


	6. Part VI

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…

_Dedicated to:__ 666, KyanaM, Stuffn'Nonsense, Brokenblackrose, Pgoodrichboggs, Pentastic, SJwheelan, Teatime Turbulence, Susan Marie S. Three March Hares, Omslagspapper, TVD-DELENA1786, and Slayerette 16._

PART VI

"Are you- why did you do that?" They ran now, toward her place, and his was on the way.

"I thought I should. It felt like I should."

"You connected. At least, you said the words. Okay, you don't own me. You're not a vampire. I don't own you, either, stop frettin'. Look, when this is done, I'm gonna say words to the effect of - no, I don't think I'd better say them until the time. Might mess up things. Magic's a bastard, it's always listenin' in."

"When Dracula called me kindred, I repeated it. Like a question. When I said it to you- I meant it. Like - like part of the same- not family. Like togetherness. Okay?"

"Deal, fine. Look, back to what I was saying, I'll take it back when it's time. You might have to as well. I don't know now. You can ask your Watcher. Or we do it just to be on the safe side."

"Let's do that. Overkill on everything."

"My kinda girl." He grinned. _She really is._

She whimpered. _Oh, not good_. "I complicated it."

"A bit."

"I'm sorry. I'll bring the spell tonight. We'll get done, get fixed. That's all that's left."

"No."

"What did I forget?"

"Drinks for two," Spike reminded her. They had reached his cemetery and slowed. He felt edgy, the kill hadn't fixed his craving.

"Oh goody. My least favorite part."

"Maybe he didn't do it right," Spike suggested.

"I don't want to talk about it. It was like a weird dream with bad aftertaste."

"Did you bite him?"

"No!"

"Maybe you'd like that better. Put a little hurt on," he said it casually as if he didn't care whether she used him gently or roughly extracted what she needed.

"I- I don't hurt people."

"Am I people?"

"Yes."

"Ahhh. Slayer's smarter than she looks. Good, Luv. You get it."

"Not _all_ vamps. But you are." He was. He said she lived in both worlds. But so did he. Even more than Angel. He was the only vampire she ever saw out doing things,_ living_, not just existing, not just feeding. The first truce they'd ever made- what was it that he'd said? He liked this world. It had- someplace in England. It had some soccer team. Dog racing. It had his beautiful Drusilla and he would do anything to save her. "I don't know why you're different. But you are."

He considered. "I'll agree with you. Met some who were demon-owned, not the other way around. I'm me. Play by my own soddin' rules," he finished cockily.

"Shoot."

"What now?"

"I should have done that last night. Why didn't you remind me?"

"Remind you to what?"

"Drink! I mean- you. I mean, your blood."

"I was recuperating from multiple brain fryings," he pointed out drily. "It's not going to mess up your life if you visit me a third night in a row to finish breakin' his hold."

"No. No, it's fine. Tonight, l-like you said. Drinks for two. Ooh! We can do the spell on you, too. Then it won't hurt to cut your arm."

"Slayer, I can take a little cut."

"But… I don't want this to hurt you. I really did mean it when I said I appreciated your help."

"Yeah? I'll tell you a secret."

"If it's about your hair color…"

"I don't like the thought of ending up on the business end of Finn's crossbow. But I was dead pleased you asked me. I think I like you, Summers. You've got… qualities."

"Gee, Spike. I'm underwhelmed," she laughed softly, but the smile in her eyes was genuine. "Can you keep a secret?"

_Is it that you came when I bit you? No, she doesn't need to tell me that. She knows I felt it._ He stifled a little groan of want and his jeans felt suddenly tight. "Are you sure it's something I don't already know?"

"I don't know. I don't think I knew it until- about ten minutes ago? You want me to tell you or not?"

He nodded, lips sealed.

"I think I like you, too."

* * *

This time when she went home, undressed and hung the silk scarf gently over the edge of her mirror. She showered again and actually fell asleep.

_Blue mist wafted in. It was cold and pulsing. The mist kept talking to her and taking shapes, shadowy outlines of a man._

_You know it was a mistake._

_You made it, not me._

_You don't want to trust him. He wants what I want._

_Nagging fear churned and twisted in her stomach._

_To bed you. Feed your hunger. Make you crave him. I would have made you a bride. Respected, cherished, loved like no other. The voice sounded pleading. Come back to me. All is forgiven._

_Uh, yeah, no. Forgiven all is not. And hello? Loved like no other- except the other bunches of brides you have? No thanks. Anyway, I can't come back to you. I wasn't with you in the first place._

_The voice was angry. You will suffer for him. You will suffer and burn and he will take what is his and cast you out._

_And what do you do when you get tired of one of the old ball and chains? Does she die? Do you kill her? Do you just release her? Is there even alimony?_

_Impudent!_

_Okay, look, as long as you're going to be in my dreams, I want to set some ground rules. You are gonna stick to small, first-year of high school types of words, okay? Not that I'm stupid, but we could have saved everyone a whole lot of time if I had realized-_

* * *

Buffy sat up with a gasp. Sunlight was streaming in. The clock on her bedside table read- ten. "Mom?"

Nothing. Well, of course, she was at the gallery by now. Riley! Jelly doughnuts and boyfriend any minute. Buffy brushed her hair and looked at her neck. No more bruises. Bite already healing but totally obvious. And the weather outside- a gorgeous, sunny late-August day. Not turtleneck weather. She tore through her closet and into a bright red halter top that exposed her back and shoulders except for two silky spaghetti strings cinching it shut at the bottom of her spine and firmly secured around her neck with a series of glossy buttons up the nape. He wouldn't think anything of this. She wore sexy shirts like this now. _This is summery, fun, flirty Buffy. Normal Girl Buffy._

The phone rang and she dove for it. "Hey, Sleepy Head! I talked to your mom an hour ago and she said you were still passed out. You ready for a doughnut date?" Riley's warm voice smiled at her through the phone.

"Jellies are the way to my heart!" she said cheerily. "Are you heading over now?"

"Stopping to get doughnuts, and I'll be right there."

"Perfect. See you soon."

Buffy hung up and immediately dialled another number while sliding into a swishy skirt and strappy summer sandals.

"Hello?" Giles answered on the first ring.

"Everything went fine."

"Thank God. I've been up half the night."

"I'm sorry, I should have called. I'll call tonight. I have questions. I also - I also think I need Willow's help, or your help. It's a spell thing, and I think it actually better be you because Willow can't lie to Riley."

"What's going on? Riley? What spell?"

"He's on his way over and I want - I want to talk to you first. In person? With a spell that hides zits- or you know- two nice little holes in my neck?"

"Can't you wear some sort of garment over it?"

"I did that. I think he'll be suspicious. He was with the scarf. In case he asks to see my neck, I want backup." _Spike's life depends on this._

He sighed. "Thankfully, small, localized glamors are not top drawer magic. I'll be able to oblige."

"And I need the absence of feelings spell. Last night went fine, but it took too long."

"Buffy, you can't rush these things," Giles cautioned.

"I have to rush these things! Not only that, but- I don't want Spike to have more headaches. He got at least two last night. Not even his fault."

"Well, as I haven't been to bed, I'm already dressed to go. I'll be there momentarily."

* * *

"Hold still."

"Hurry."

"Aphrodite, Branwen, Isis, Artemis, by your art," he placed his hand just above her neck, lined brow further indented, "Freya, Idun, Inanna, Astarte, shape the form to please the heart." He looked at her and then said, "Cover," in a firm voice. He stepped back with a satisfied smile."Miraculous. A perfect second skin. Now, should he touch you there, he'll feel it, so - ah- if you should-"

"We will keep the hanky and panky to a minimum," Buffy a problem, actually. She was hiding things from her boyfriend, and she also fully suspected said boyfriend to be suspicious. _Which just proves- something is wrong somewhere._ And dragging Giles into this, to the point where he was hiding out with her in her bedroom doing a last minute spell to help the deception. Poor Giles, he'd do anything to help her, lie for her, cover for her, spend half the night worrying about her and drop everything to do a spell, standing exhausted and disheveled in her bedroom, trying to beat the clock before Riley arrived. Had he even set foot in her room before? Maybe once or twice, but now he was in it up to his neck and- "My neck! Giles, I can still see the bite!" She gestured frantically to the mirror in her bedroom.

Giles soothed, "Well, you can see it, but I can't. No one but you can, as it is on you and glamors are meant to conceal things from the outside world, not yourself And- possibly Spike might see it, since he created the mark. I don't know."

"You're a total and complete lifesaver, you know that?"

"You've mentioned it on occasion. Good to be reminded." He tossed her a pleased smile.

"When will it wear off?" Buffy traced the bare flesh that still looked gouged to her eyes.

"It will last for a few hours. I'm afraid that's the extent of my expertise with those things. All right, do up your shirt. What else did you want to ask?" Giles turned as she fumbled with the fabric, giving out one of his "I am uncomfortable but steadfast" coughs as Buffy fastened her halter top.

"Okay, he bit me once. I didn't bite him. Or- you know, blood drinking on my part didn't happen. He and I did say the bonding words."

"Did you? Good." Giles wanted to ask a million questions and felt cheated and rushed. This was the summary of a novella of fascinating, rare, perhaps hitherto unknown events in the world of slayers and vampires! "What words did you-"

"Um. Kindred." _And he called me his. My Slayer._

"You repeated it?" His eyebrows slowly elevated.

"Yes."

"You didn't do that with Dracula, did you?"

"Well… I'm not sure. He said I was kindred and I went- 'Kindred?' like I was asking a question. So, just to be safe, we did the same thing. I said it back."

"Good! And frankly, the more you do with Spike, the better. We were trying to reason this out, but this is mystical and has no exact equation to follow. Dracula is incredibly strong and powerful, he defies even the laws of death that the immortals embrace!"

"Oh no. You've gone into big drama speech. This is bad."

"We don't know if a simple two for one exchange will do it. What if two of Spike's bites don't break the prior bond because one of Dracula's is more powerful?"

"And- and do the bites have to happen on separate days?" Buffy asked.

"What?"

"Like, what if Spike bit me two times yesterday in the same session? Does that count as one 'event' or two 'bites'?"

"Oh. Oh, I don't know." Giles frowned. Such words were anathema to Watchers, and he had to say them so very frequently.

"Ugghhh."

"And Anya pointed out that the level of intimacy between the bitten and the one doing the biting is another variable that could skew the balance."

"So, what should I do?"

"How many times did he bite you last night?"

"Once."

"How do you feel?"

"Okay. Better-ish. Oh- also, either I need sleeping pills or Dracula's broadcasting in my dreams."

"What? How?"

"It could be a weird dream, or… when I'm not actively resisting this bond thingy, he can slip right in and leave a message. He told me I should stop fighting it and come back to him. I would be loved and cherished as no other."

"Oh hogwash. He has three wives already!"

"I know! I even asked him about that. I said, where does Wife A go when Wife B comes along? But, it was a dream, so it wasn't like I got any good answers. Just misty blue propaganda. Oh. Yeah, and he told me I would suffer and burn and Spike would 'cast me out'." Buffy made air quotes as she smoothed her outfit and brushed her hair down, adding another layer of protection around her neck.

"Ah. I believe he means Spike will not keep his hold on you. Perhaps he perceives that this is just an arrangement borne of necessity, not a true desire for each other."

"Hey, I never desired Cape Boy."

"No, but he desired you. Hmm. Oh dear."

"Not that."

"Oh dear Lord."

"Giles, stop, that's even worse!"

"What if this doesn't work because Spike doesn't 'desire' you like Dracula did?"

Buffy remembered the spasming, rolling, passionate kissing that had led to him finally achieving a bite, and the sounds of him moaning, the splash and trickle of warm blood on her because he couldn't keep his lips sealed, too much pleasure trying to escape. And how she hadn't been able to keep still either. And how he silently helped her, not saying anything about what she was doing, just putting himself in the right spot to make sure she got what she needed.

"It'll be fine," Buffy said softly.

"But-"

"I think it'll be fine. Trust me. Now, for the Absence of Sensation spell, do I need anything? Herbs or crystals, candles, eyes of- something?"

"Clove buds, plantain weed, and chamomile. It's already been burned, you just need to make the sacred circle using the ashes created. Here they are." He reached into his pocket and produced a sealed packet, "and stand inside the circle as you chant it. Make it big enough for Spike to join you, obviously. And here's a copy of the spell- in English- for you. "

"Buffy? Mr. Giles?"

Buffy gave him a panicked look and hissed, "How does he know?"

"My car is in your driveway," Giles reminded her patiently.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and nervously reached for her throat. Giles tugged her arm away hastily and pressed the slip of paper into her hand. "Oh. Right."

Riley's head appeared around the door, his smile stiffening as he observed a tousled looking Giles stroking at Buffy's arm and handing her something which she hastily tucked further into her palm. " Hey, guys. What's going on?"

"Giles came over to-"

"Give her a stronger herbal component to try with the cleansing ritual. This one takes several nights to complete," Giles looked at her pointedly.

"Um, great. Yeah. Thanks for-"

Riley stepped inside the room. "Why do you need a stronger ritual? Are you worse?"

"No. But- but I had a dream. Dracula was speaking to me in it. I really want him -uh- cleansed from my mind."

"Does that mean he's closer? Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?"

Buffy shook her head slowly. "No, I'm not sure. And I don't know about closer. Giles?"

"Anything is possible at this point, sadly." He stood at looked at the couple who seemed tentative around each other. "I'll leave you to your visit."

"Oh, I have more than enough doughnuts. Take a couple?" Riley held out the box.

"Well… jellies?" Giles asked hopefully.

"You two and your jellies. Boston cream is superior," Riley teased.

"I will give you first pick of the jellies for being so helpful and awesome, Watcher-Mine. Oh, and thanks for defending me. Riley told me how you spoke up for me when Anya lost control of her mouth."

Giles gave each of them a puzzled look. "Anya? Oh, about -erm- the feelings Riley was having?"

It was Buffy's turn to give the others a confused glance. "What feelings? All you said was he defended me."

"You said you thought it was Anya. Or Xander. It was late and you were tired, so I didn't want to go into it. No need to go into it now." He gave Giles a searing look.

"I quite agree. Buffy, I'm going to reach out to the Council, see if they have any information on Dracula's current whereabouts. Check in tonight, after your ritual? No matter the time," Giles stated the last words emphatically, squeezing her arm as he left without his pick of pastry.

Buffy nodded to him briefly.

As soon as Giles was out of the room, twin outbursts occurred.

"What was that?" Both of them hissed.

"You totally shut down Giles. What was he going to say? What did Anya say? What feelings?"

Riley didn't give her answers, too busy demanding his own, "What was that look? Why was he in your room, looking at you like that? You call him in the middle of the night?"

Buffy gave him a look that shouted, "Are you stupid?" But she retained civility when speaking, even though her voice was sharp. "That look was the one he gives me when I'm worried, and call when the ritual is done literally means call when it's done so he can know how things are going. You called, too! I didn't call him last night, I didn't call anyone, I didn't want to wake anyone up! But if he asks me to call, I will. He's my Watcher."

"And Watchers outrank boyfriends?"

"Were you this jealous last year, or is this a new thing? Because I have to tell you, not loving it. Not sexy. Not attractive."

"I'm not jealous of him like that. Although, having a guy come into your bedroom to give you magical herbs and -"

"Stop. You're crossing into stupid territory. And actually, I can't remember Giles' ever- oh wait, no he did come see me one time in my room. I was in bed. Angel was here, too." Riley looked mortified. She rolled her eyes."And my mom. I was sick, Riley! I had gotten so sick from fighting with a demon that they didn't think I would make it. They were here because they wanted to help me, trying to give me an antidote. Today, I overslept and was getting ready, so Giles came up when he got here. I asked him to come on up. Because he's my friend. He's family. I sort of get you being jealous of Angel. I don't like that, but I get it. I _don't_ like you being jealous of my friends."

Riley sighed, taking her hand. "Jealous isn't the right word. I feel… like I'm second string. They get called on first. You immediately turn to them for help. I'm- _I'm_ the afterthought."

"That is so not true. When I went to Giles, you were the first one I talked about. I said you would freak. And look, I'm psychic, because here you are, freaking out, and not answering my questions. Why did I need defending last night? What feelings?"

"It wasn't me! They were joking around about this thing, not taking it seriously. Willow even said something about Dracula sounding like a great name for a vacuum attachment, gets hard to clean bloodstains out of the- you're laughing at this?" He shook his head as Buffy snorted.

"Drac would hate that, and I love Willow for mocking the big jerk. Inappropriately timed humor is like a Scooby defense mechanism, Riley. Have you ever watched me patrol?"

"All the time."

"I talk the whole time. I joke. I'm facing death! I have to laugh."

"You have to laugh?" Riley's jaw dropped and hung there. "How can you… you could die! How is that funny?"

"Well… I already had to die when I was sixteen. I got back up," Buffy shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not going to live a long time. I can let it eat at me. Or I can laugh."

"Or you can find a way to stop it!" Riley took both her hands. "It kills me to hear you say-"

"The truth?" Buffy whispered gently. "I'm fighting as hard as I can to stay alive. I do whatever it takes. Even if you don't like it."

"The least you can do is let me help you, then."

"I will. I thought you did help last night? You were research guy. Which reminds me, why-" _No! No, shut up, shut up, shut up! Don't ask why he went to Spike's to ask about Dracula. Then he'll know you went to see Spike this week and we ratchet up the level of bad._

"What?"

"Which reminds me that I haven't even seen Xander or Anya yet to tell them about any of this. I know you guys filled them in. And Tara! See, you're not an afterthought, honey. It's just everybody has different schedules. And when you start as a TA in two weeks, and I have classes, we'll be on campus together all day. But our schedules will probably still be different, huh?"

"Sadly," Riley leaned forward. "Forgive me for freaking out?"

"Forgiven." She kissed him with a small smile. Which led to a longer kiss. Hungrier kiss.

And stopping. "I'm starving," Buffy interrupted the embrace as he reached to caress her shoulder.

"Ooh, let me take care of that for you," Riley nuzzled her ear.

"No, I'm literally hungry. I must be burning so many calories right now. I can hardly hold still."

"Who says we have to hold still?"

There was a playful scuffle, but Buffy ended up stealing the box of doughnuts and fleeing downstairs, giggling. "It's practically lunchtime. You have to fill me on research. I want to see if we can hang with Willow, too. Maybe she could _create_ some spell if Giles and Tara helped her."

Riley followed her down, laughing as she babbled and munched. He loved this happy side of her. No doom and gloom, no gallows humor.

_But she… doesn't love me. And I don't think she even knows. She thinks being there is enough. But you can't stand at the door. You gotta be let in._

His eyes widened with a wince. Like vampires into your home. Must be issued the invite. "Hey, Buffy?"

"Mmm? OJ?"

"Sure. Buffy, do you-"

"Do I what?" Buffy turned back to him, bottle now in hand, fridge door closing behind her. His face was apprehensive.

"Do you- think two doughnuts and a glass of juice is a balanced breakfast? How about lunch on campus?" I can't ask. If the answer is no… She loved a demon more than me.

"Best boyfriend ever," Buffy pecked his cheek.

"Yeah. So you tell me," he murmured.

* * *

"I know how to do spells, Buffy, I even know how to create some simple ones, b-but I wouldn't even know how to begin to do this. The first law of magic is the exchange. Like- if you want gold coins to pop out of your body, be prepared to give up something incredibly valuable, like your sight. You could be rich and blind."

"What's the going exchange rate for one Transylanvian egomaniac?" Buffy kidded.

Willow and Tara, sitting across from her and Riley at the campus cafeteria, didn't laugh. They exchanged cowed, nervous glances with each other and then looked at their plates.

"Not funny? I thought it was funny," Buffy mumbled.

"It was!" Willow hastened to reassure her. "It's just- we don't know. We were talking about it last night, and it got… tense."

"Riley told me Anya had-"

"I didn't tell you, you guessed," Riley cut her off.

"And you didn't tell me that I guessed wrong," Buffy pointed out. "Sorry for the tense, guys. I think... " Buffy hesitated. _Keep Riley away from Spike. Get Spike to finish this "exchange." More lies and diversions._ "I think we may have to go the route of our helpful local vampire. But I could give it one more week. Riley- Giles mentioned he would contact his old Watcher buddies in the Council. Do you think there are any guys from the Initiative project who could help you find where Dracula is? Maybe they have some top secret surveillance that they'd be willing to make a little less top secret?"

"Graham might. I'll reach out. A week?"

"I think a week is about all I can take of this," Buffy laughed nervously, piling her hair up on her head, and rising. "Can't sit still."

"You totally seem better than yesterday. Yesterday she almost uprooted a tree," Willow informed Tara in a stage whisper.

"The um- spell. Cleansing ritual. Helped." Buffy said quickly. "But it's obviously starting to wear off." And it was. Oh damn. I'm a junkie. _I'm a vampire junkie. No, I'm not, I'm just… there's just one that I wanna see again. Right now. But I can't. Because that would look pathetic, rushing over there and begging to be bitten, and I don't want to feel those things and I don't want to be bitten in the first place and oh, drinking blood-_ "I think I have to barf!" The reeling carnival in her mind had reached her stomach with high-speed fury. "Sorry, guys. I'm bailing."

"W-want us to help you get home?" Tara offered.

"Doctor's?" Riley suggested.

"Tums?" Willow dug into her purse.

"It's just… the bond, or resisting it, makes you hyper. The ritual helped me get a break, I guess. Then I had a weird Dracu-dream, and I guess he's trying to muscle in on my brain and my body."

"What kind of dream? A Slayer dream?" Willow demanded.

Riley shook his head. _Those are things._ "Yeah, what happened?"

"He… told me I should come back to him. I would be loved like no other. I told him to get off and I also told him he really needs to work on his word choice if he's going to hang out in my head."

Light laughter erupted from three of the foursome. Riley closed his eyes. "You can talk to him in your dreams? Like have a conversation?" _That's not possible. That's insane. This whole thing is insane._

"Well, I tried, but I don't know how much transmits and how much I just 'receive'," Buffy explained with a shrug, nervously rubbing at her neck and shoulders. Her skin prickled all over. Standing still this long was killing her. She had to move again.

Riley apparently felt the same desire to move. He rose from the chair, face tight. "I have to call Graham. Call me tonight?"

"Sure, absolutely." She bussed his cheek and brushed her hand down his arm, ending with a tiny squeeze of his hand.

As Riley walked off, Buffy ran off in the opposite direction, followed by her slower friends. "Can you lower the pace to sidekick speed?" Willow begged. "Ooh, side stitch! Full belly … running. Bad."

"Where are we going?" Tara panted.

"I don't know. I just- I wanna move around. Everything is too hot and too tight. I need a rubber band. Tara?"

Tara slid an elastic band off of her wrist and lent it to Buffy, who put her hair up into a bun. "That's a little better," she sighed, rolling her neck and shoulders, trying to relieve the tension.

"Hey, Buffy? Is your neck- is he able to like- bite you in your sleep? Like- like dream bites or something?" Willow backed away slightly, looking panicked. Tara let out a gasp.

Buffy guiltily grabbed her neck. Her halter top was twisting, revealing one sliver of a fresh bite. "The glamor was supposed to last a few hours. I guess it has been a couple," Buffy looked at her best friend and one of her rapidly becoming best friends. "I don't want to lie to anyone. But I have to."

"You went down to see Angel?" Willow squeaked.

"Shh! No. It's not Dracula, either. I'm trying to break the hold. I'm getting help. If Riley knew, he'd kill the vampire who is helping me, and that's not okay. It's not fair to get killed for an action that might literally save my life, or at least my sanity." _He's all about trying to help save the crazies…_

Willow and Tara exchanged a look. "Giles knows?" Willow asked.

Buffy nodded slowly.

"But you couldn't tell me?" Willow's voice shrank.

"I don't want you to have to lie for me. You spent all of high school doing that," she took Willow's hand as she resumed pacing, now beside a different tree on the campus. "And Tara… what you're probably thinking of me now." Buffy winced.

"Trying to save Spike's life is noble, I guess. In the circumstances. He can't defend himself and Riley would be mad at him for biting you, but the bite would be to help you, and you asked for help. I'm not really seeing the bad. I wish I didn't see the need to lie, either, but I… I guess I can. Riley's so sweet to you- but he has one very dark spot in his personality."

Buffy tuned out a lot of what Tara had said. "I didn't say Spike!"

"Oh. I assumed. Who is it? Or are you not telling?"

"I'm not telling," Buffy hated this most of all. Willow looked surprised and hurt. "I can't put him in danger. It's not okay. It's… it's going to be over soon, I promise. I will tell you everything. Anything you want to know." Images of her writhing under him flashed into her mind. _Almost anything._ "Wait, what dark spot?"

Tara stammered and shook her head.

"No, I'm serious. Aside from being jealous, which I kind of get."

Tara looked around nervously. "Possession, Buffy."

"Riley's possessed? Man, Drac gets around."

"No! That's the dark spot. He doesn't even realize it. He knows he loves you. He wants to protect you. He wants… to possess you. Own you. Control what you do and how you do it, because he thinks he knows the best way to keep you safe. And he wants to keep you safe because he loves you. It m-might be from pure motives, I understand that. He's not a bad person," Tara babbled nervously, not looking at Buffy while she spoke.

Buffy didn't respond.

"I'm sorry," Tara whispered.

"Buffy, say something," Willow prompted hesitantly.

"But… he's normal. I'm over the bad boy thing," Buffy sounded distant, confused.

"He's not bad!" Tara reiterated.

"M-maybe that's how normal guys feel about their girlfriends? They want to protect them from monsters who want to murder them and turn them into undead sex slaves?"

"That sounds like my gut-reaction. Murdering and slavery of any kind, right there, yes. Absolutely. Protect me from it. Help me fight the guy doing it. Yep. Yep."

"Buffy? You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

"If - hypothetically, Tara got bit by Dracula, and let's say… Harmony was around. Harmony hates Dracula. She's willing to bargain for something she wants in exchange for helping you, and you can use a spell to make sure that Harmony will play nice, completely nice… would you let her break the hold?"

"Well, it's not up to just me. One, does Tara want that? And two, if my choices are losing my lover forever or letting her use a pretty unorthodox- not to mention curvy, blonde, and air-headed- cure, I have to pick the cure. I can't live without her. I can't live without her being happy. If she wants the cure, I help her get it, no matter what the cost, as long as no innocent lives were lost. Because Tara would hate that." Willow gave her a look of utter adoration that was returned in spades.

"Baby," Tara cooed, and Buffy had to smile as the conversation derailed into hugging. And then kissing. Serious kissing.

"Whoa! Hey, time out! I'll let you two head home."

"I don't think we understood the question," Willow pried her lips off of Tara's.

"You did. If you really love someone, you'll do anything to help them get better, as long as it's what they want and no one gets hurt. Especially if you only have two options, and one of them is pretty impossible."

"Maybe he's afraid biting will hurt you. I mean, it is how vampires kill people."

"It didn't hurt. Not at all." Buffy regarded them calmly. "Promise not to tell him?"

"We promise," both of them agreed, though they looked uncomfortable.

Buffy walked off, still moving quickly, but the bounce was gone from her step.

"What happened?" Tara murmured.

"I think she just realized that her normal guy who's the good guy- might have something bad inside that she can't deal with. Buffy can deal with a lot. Her first big love wasn't baggage free. In fact, I would give it a heavy nine on the misery-meter. If Angel's not helping her, and Riley doesn't want her to get help, even if it's the best option… oh. That's gotta be a bad feeling."

"I hope Spike cheers her up," Tara whispered.

"It can't be Spike. He can't hurt people."

"I know. She said it didn't hurt."

_To be continued..._

_Author's End Note: Thank you again for those of you who are reading the "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms:Shattered by S.C. Principale. Definitely a closed bedroom door sort of book- just fair warning._


	7. Part VII

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: The very kind readers and reviewers! _

PART VII

Spike rolled restlessly. This wasn't good for him. When he first heard of one vampire placing a claim or having a hold on another, he assumed it was some great act of love and devotion. Turned out it was all about power. You had to be a right chump to let someone enslave you like that, own a bit of you.

He'd have done it for Dru in a heartbeat. She laughed at the idea, not meanly, just as if he were playing a silly game.

_Of course, you're mine. Another pretty dolly_._ The best of all, the finest of all my lead soldiers, such beauty in your head. _

_Of course you have me, Sweet Spike. But so does Daddy and Dear Grandmum. Daddy'd be ever so cross with me if he thought I wasn't in his pretty paint box anymore. I'm his favorite piece. Don't you think I'm lovely, Spike, all painted in his colors?_

He hit the pillow beside him with a growl. Stupid Slayer. She shouldn't have said it back.

_She's all I can bloody think about. I still taste her. Smell her. Now Dru's scarf is gonna smell like her. Abomination. _

_Sweet, tight, hot abomination, squeezing my jaws around the soft little throat- who'd have thought all those muscles turn to butter when she's under you like that? _

Another savage hit, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. Only vampires can create a hold. Her repeating the word "kindred" to him meant nothing, not at all. She didn't bite or taste him. No mark was made on him.

_Like hell. She's bloody imprinted on my brain. _

_Just want her to get here so we can do this and get it over, not drag it out._

_Dragging._

Tongue along that slender column of throat, catching any errant drops, and there were plenty. He'd pictured quick, clean, clinical. He never figured he's make a mess of her, moaning and spilling her.

_Spilling. _

_Goddamned Victorian euphemisms for- other things. _Somehow the image of blood dripping across her was replaced by images of other drips and he was disgusted with himself. _Need a stiff drink. A cold shower. _

_An effing lobotomy, what am I doing? This can never happen again. We will not drag this out!_

Her. Dragging her tongue over his throat this time. Yeah, he could tell her to play it like he wanted it. Tell her to bite with those blunt teeth, make a bruise, worry the skin where vampires are most sensitive, until she popped him open, a spurt of blood in her mouth and -

_Spurting._

"For fuck's sake!" Spike sat up, genuinely puzzled and utterly, completely disgusted. When had he turned into a randy teenager? Even as a teenager, he hadn't been like this. Even with Dru- he hadn't felt like this, where it was all consuming, all the time, and every word seemed to dig a little path of desire into his brain.

It was just the blood. That had to be it. It was an aphrodisiac, and he didn't have anyone to - he tried to control himself, call on long, long dead gentlemanly reserve- didn't have anyone to romp through Eros' perfumed gardens with.

_Love to get between her petals._

"Oh for _fuck's sake_!" This time the cry was even more desperately exasperated. He stormed out of bed and dragged his clothes onto his tense frame. "You will not act like this around her, you idiot. Be mean and nasty, don't give her the time of day- but that'd hurt her feelings."

He shook himself. "Why do I care?

Well, she's mine for a bit. You can't treat her like that. She's trusting you. She likes you, she said so." A befuddled, almost punchdrunk grin plastered itself to his face.

He let out a frustrated little whimper.

_Love's a bitch._

_ Oh no._

_ Not again._

* * *

She paused by her front door. It was barely dark. She had called her mother at the gallery and said she was going to Giles' for the ritual without telling her exactly why a cleansing was needed. Bless her preoccupied mom, packing to go visit a friend for a few days, she hadn't demanded answers. Riley touched base and said he was driving out to meet Graham at his new regular army digs, meet Graham's new commanding officer, and see what access to any demon-activity databases could be granted, if any were still operating. Riley seemed happy and she was happy about that.

Giles had dropped by around five, saying he had been to the slaughterhouse and set up a standing order with them for a few months, not a payment, a gesture of gratitude. Asked her to tell Spike. He had the first order with him and Buffy took it, acting like she was going to put it in the fridge and then return to whittling some stakes.

Instead, she packed a bag with a turtleneck, spell stuff, the blood, and pulled the black silk scarf around her neck. She hesitated. Should she change clothes? She had put on jeans and her favorite patrolling boots. The shirt. Hmm. It was backless except for a few pieces of red string around the lower back and the column of little glossy buttons up the back of her neck. The crypt was chillier, being made of stone and having no natural sunlight to warm it, no heaters, not that she needed them in August in California.

_I'll be fine. I won't be there long tonight. In. Out._

_In and out. In and out. Those words should not make naughty mental pictures. Those are simply opposites. Like - hot and cold. _

_Hot parts of me. Cold parts of him. _

_No! Or- or good and bad._

_This is a bad thing to do. He's a bad man. He's doing a good thing by helping me. The boyfriend I have is a good man. He only wants me to get help on his terms. That's bad. _

_I like Spike better right now. At this second. _

_I'm a bad girlfriend._

_I'm a good slayer. _

"When did preschool concepts get so… moral dilemma-y?" she huffed and kicked a can along the gutter as she hurried to see him.

* * *

Oh, sweet relief! Spike let out deep, spine-wracking sigh, eyes closed blissfully once she knocked at his door. "Come in," he said, trying to sound gruff- and simply sounding grateful.

"Hi, I brought you some dinner- and breakfast, too." Buffy held out the box full of containers to him.

"Staying for breakfast, are you?"

They exchanged wide-eyed, completely panicked looks. "Joke."

"I knew that."

"It's from Giles. He set up a standing order for you at the slaughterhouse. He said you can pick it up daily or weekly, you just have to tell them. It's a gesture of gratitude, not payment. He knows you're not doing this for money, you're doing it to help."

"I'll be sure to thank him." She stood still, even as he moved about. "Somethin' else?"

"Here, I -I have this spell to make my skin numb. You can - you can be quicker, no headaches," Buffy's voice came out uneven and rapid. "Oh, and the scarf- I took good care of it." She unwound it from her neck and handed it back to him.

"Knew you would. Sets off the top, Luv." He looked at her. He never really noticed the trimmings she wore, except they were usually girly and screamed "victim" not "victor." Clever. She always had the element of surprise. Now she had the element of seduction, probably didn't even know it. How much skin could she show without that thing falling off? And what about a bra? Did they make backless ones?

_Well, I can't ask her that! I could keep starin' at her, I guess. Wait until she punches me in the mouth._

Buffy felt the constant thrum of energy in her mute slightly. Tiredness came in a wave and she sagged before he caught her, his hand and bare forearm against the skin of her back.

Hot and cold, she thought hazily and fumbled with the zipper on her bag. "Spell's in here. Giles copied it out in English. And I have to make a circle on the floor and we have to stand in it. Where should we- where do you want me to stand?"

"Same spot as last night is fine. Better make it a big circle," he suggested quietly. _In case we end up lyin' down in it instead of standing. _

"This won't be like last night," Buffy assured him, but she made the circle pretty big anyway, shaking out a tiny line of the herbal ash Giles had given her. "You'd better eat."

"I will. So, you saw the Watcher. Did he give us any new info?"

"A whole lot of 'I don't know'. He's trying, but since they never wrote this down as a formula, all of us are just guessing. It's trial and error. For one thing- he has no idea of bites have to be on different days or could happen all on the same day but separate times to count as more than Dracula's. He also doesn't know if two of your equals one of his, because he's all supernaturally supernatural. Doesn't even dust right." Buffy viciously shook out the last bit of ash and joined the circle's ends.

"Wanker."

"Yeah. Spoiled dead guy, breaking all the rules." Buffy unfolded the paper and read it through twice. "I had a dream, too."

"You had one as well?" He froze in the act of retrieving on container from the microwave. "I never told you about mine. How did you know-"

"I meant, in addition to the other news from Watcher Central, I also had a Drac-umentary in my head last night. Well, not so much like that, more like a message on the cosmic answering machine, one really annoying ex begging me to take him back. Like we were ever together. And what do you mean, you had a dream? Dracula's visiting you, too?"

"No. Not important. What happened with you?" Spike popped the lid and sipped.

"Oh, he showed up in my head. Spoke a lot. Used some big words. Told him not to. Told him I had no intention of being one of his wives, and I didn't care if he was going to love me and cherish me and stuff like that."

"Oh, he probably meant it with you. Least for a few hundred years. You'd be his jewel, you know."

"Yeah, but he always has three brides. They aren't always the same ones, or else how could I get initiated?" Buffy asked, and waited expectantly. Spike had the answers to her questions lately.

"Oh, he gives them away. Gifts to please other powerful blokes in his circle, like hand me downs."

"That's terrible!"

"I know. Never would let Dru get close to him. When we were in Europe in- oh, must be 1890s, he took a fancy to some pretty thing, and traded out one of his old models. She staked herself rather than go. He was terribly embarrassed. Put a dent in his image for a whole ten seconds before he made everyone forget they'd seen it."

"Why didn't_ you_ forget?"

"I couldn't forget that and I'm real hard to thrall. She was - beggin' him not to cast her away. She loved him." Spike's voice took on a whole different edge. It was hard, but grieving. Telling a story that you don't want to repeat. "Sometimes- sometimes Drusilla would get all clingy to Angelus and he'd push her off. Leave her for weeks, or make her leave the place he and Darla had picked out. An' I was glad about it, glad to be well-shot of him, but it half-killed her. But she used to plead with him in the same way, tears in her eyes, begging him to stay, or let her stay, or go with him… This bride of Dracula's looked the same. Long dark hair, big pleading eyes, confused little voice. She'd been his possession for who knows how long and then- snap. Severed all ties with her, threw her out. Not even giving her freedom, which I don't suppose she'd have accepted just then, but gave her _away_, to one of his new favored 'sons', some Turkish prince he'd turned on holiday, I think it was. Bloke grabbed her, she wailed out somethin' in gypsy lingo to Drac, and poof. No more. Anyway, I hate him."

"Me, too," Buffy shivered and looked sick. Sad and sick. _I don't want to be like that. _"I have to break this, Spike."

"I know. We will, Baby. I promise you. I don't care how long it takes, he's not gonna have you," Spike vowed it easily, automatically, his hand coming to clasp hers.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"He said- in the dream- that you'd take what you wanted and make me suffer, then cast me out."

"He must get it. I don't intended to- to make this permanent, 'cause you don't want that. An' you sure as hell don't want to be turned. He's only got his warped ideas to go on, Luv. You won't be miserable, you'll be free and happy, kickin' up your heels and celebratin' with your little mates."

"And you. You have to come if I throw a 'No more crazy-hyper Buffy' party."

"All right, it's a date. Provided Finn and I don't show up at the same gig, same time."

"I guess we make ours a private party. _Oh, yay. More bad images._

_Bugger. Why does she say these things, all innocent, and I can only think of the- hey._ He suddenly stopped. Smelled guilt. And a little hint of something else. _Oh well. Least it isn't just me._ He shifted his hips uncomfortably. "The sooner you're fixed, the sooner we have cake, right?"

"With ice cream," Buffy laughed nervously. "Are you full enough?"

"Yeah, I'm not very hungry." _Slayer blood is like one of those shots of super concentrated energy drink. Keeps you goin', as well as making you want to put the moves on anything that -well, anything that moves._

Last night there had been so much preparation, trial and error. This was going to be so easy, quick and simple, Buffy thought smugly. "For this action, we beseech, to cool the body's- Spike! Get in the circle all the way. And don't step on the line!"

"I'm in, I'm in! Where do you want me to stand, front or back?"_ How do you like it, Baby? On top? Behind? No, I'd want you lyin' under me first, just for a second, to feel myself sink into that heat, soft, human heat for the first time ever. Then you can have me however you want me._

"Uh- face to face."_ No, no sex position talk in my head. Concentrate! Spell. Don't do it right, everyone hurts._

"Go on then," he urged, stepping beside her, a little off to the left and in front, lining up for a quick easy- "Wait! Your collar. It's all buttoned up."

"Oh. Yeah. Hold this." She passed him the spell and reached back to undo the buttons, then grabbed the front of her shirt as it began to puddle down, little rivulets of red. _Should have worn a different shirt. _

"Want me to tie you up tighter?" Spike offered. She gave him an alarmed glance and he gestured to her back. "Your strings. Want 'em cinched up so you don't flash me your lovely handfuls, Slayer?"

"Just be quick and it won't matter," Buffy blushed and took the paper back.

"For this action we beseech, cool this body's surface to know neither pain nor pleasure, nor touch, nor harm, until the sand falls three times, and thus breaks this charm." She looked up at him, watching him slide into game face, waiting for her signal.

She went numb. All over. Couldn't feel her own presence. Instantly disorienting, like being dipped in a pool of novocaine, only worse. "Spike!" she sounded frantic. "What's happening?"

"Huh?" His fangs retracted.

"Where am I- what are you doing?" She dropped the paper, clutched at her shirt, beginning to hyperventilate. "Where's my body, I can't feel- I can't feel myself. I can't feel my shirt. I can't feel anything!"

"Shh, shh, that's all right, I can slip right in, you won't feel it."

"No!"

Spike backed up hastily. A stake was pointing at him, and then it was dropped and she dropped too, scrabbling on the floor, patting for it. Patting herself all over.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted.

"I won't! Thought we agreed you wouldn't pack any firepower? Got an arsenal in my head!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" she responded automatically, still doing the desperate, disoriented pat down. "Where am I?"

"What do you mean? You're right there! You can see yourself!"

"But I can't feel anything. I can't- I can't even hold my- stay away!" Her nerveless fingers failed to grip the stake again, and she went into a defensive crouch. A look at him that was puzzled, then determined.

"What are you-"

She sprang, hitting him in the face.

"Ow!" he cried, hand raised, then dropping.

"I couldn't feel that!"

"I bloody could!"

"I can't fight!"

"Yes, you can! Use your other senses, idiot! You can see yourself, hear yourself. See and hear any nasties you'd need to." Another blow, and he ducked. "But don't hit me!"

"Don't bite me! You could do- you could do anything and I-" she looked terror-stricken for a moment.

"Oh, hey. Hey now, I'm not gonna hurt you. You know that."

"No. No, it's the chip that stops you and now I can't feel what you're doing and you can do anything and I-"

"You're gonna pass out, and then you'll be unconscious around me. You don't want that. You don't want to lose that, too. Now look, Watcher said this would be over in minutes. Moments. You stay there. I'll stay here. We won't hurt each other. Deal?"

"Deal," she rubbed her hands together, a hunted look in her eye. "Can't even- I mean I see, I hear, but Spike, I can't feel my own mouth moving. It's hard to talk."

"Then be quiet! God, you're smarter than this. What's-" he stopped talking. _Helpless. She can't take it. She feels powerless, and she can't take it. It's the opposite of what she is._"You're not weak. You're never weak. That's why he wanted you, remember? You have power no one else in the world's got. You don't need to panic."

But panic only intensified in her eyes as she grabbed her chest. "I can't feel my heart beating. I can't feel myself my breathing. Am I- what if they stop? _Are_ stopped?"

Spike reached her and grabbed her gently, not that she could tell. She let out a squeak and kneaded along her smooth, exposed skin above the loosened fabric. He shushed her fiercely and jammed his ear right next to her chest, not that he really needed to, but he thought that she might be reassured if it looked more "human" when he checked. "I can hear it. Pounding away. And watch." He put his hand flat to her ribs, just under the breastbone. "Watch it rise and fall. You're breathing. You're comin' down now. All right? Nice and steady."

"I'm not supposed to freak," she gasped out, hand lacing with his, wanting to be part of it, partially comforted by seeing what she couldn't feel.

"I won't tell if you don't," he soothed.

It was three minutes or so before the tension left her face. "Hey. I can feel your hand. I can feel my hands. I can talk- the way I'm used to talking! Oh wow. That was - actually awful. I prefer the pain."

"The pain to the numbness. That's my Slayer," he chuckled and scooted out of the circle, went for his smokes. "I call no more mojo. We can do this the old fashioned way. It worked okay last night."

"Mmhmm. Well- I - I was trying to avoid that," Buffy redid her top, and then stopped, popping open any buttons re-fastened. _Why bother? Why didn't I change? I'm dumb. Well, distracted. This is my "Look Normal" wear. I should have worn my "Fate Hates Me" ensemble. _

"You cold?" Spike saw her shuddering and rubbing her neck and arms.

"No, dumb."

"You mean we only had to come to a completely buggered up ludicrous situation for us to agree on things?"

"Shut up. I mean, this isn't a good outfit."

"You look fine."

"It's not a good outfit because to keep it up I have to either have it fastened around the essential biting area, or I have to have one hand holding it up so I don't flash you."

"Oh, well, I don't really_ mind _if you flash me," Spike gave her a roguish wink which made her roll her eyes.

"Aren't I suffering enough?"

He cocked his head. Odd. He didn't like that. He'd thoroughly enjoyed her suffering before. Now, he felt like he should stop it. More than that._ Compelled_ to stop it. Like he was irresponsible if he didn't._ I'm a vampire! Dead, utterly unpleasant bastard, that's me! Irresponsible is part of the deal._

_Later._ "I got clothes downstairs. You brought a bag, what's in it?"

"Turtleneck sweater. See comment about covering biting areas."

"Can't we use those little string things 'round your back and loop 'em up over your neck? They're barely threads, I'd still have space."

"No, I'd look like an idiot with my shirt upside down."

_Your life or your fashion? _He rolled his eyes. "You look real bright now, Luv."

"Again with the up-shutting. Ugh. Is this better or worse than last night?"

He considered. "I think it's better. You that worried about droppin' your shirt, I could close my eyes. Biting's somethin' I'm good at. Don't really need to see."

"You could peek," she insisted mulishly.

"Oh for God's… you want to blindfold me an' have done with it?"

Both of them froze in their respective spots, across the crypt from each other. "No," Buffy answered once her mouth wanted to function again. _Not a good idea, not a good idea. I never, ever wanted to- Why does he make me think bad things?_

_Because he's bad._

_Why'd I say that? It was a joke. It was cheeky. _

_But I wouldn't mind. That could be fun._ He sauntered over to her. She drew herself up, the ice princess stare in her eyes that melted when he got close.

"Maybe we're thinkin' too hard about the details. We could- go back to basics," he suggested softly.

"Basics?"

"You. Me. Exchanges. Bonds." He ran a tongue slowly over his lips. "Kindred," he whispered, leaning close, and she let him.

_One little word. Dracula said it, and I felt confused. Curious. Spike says it, and I feel… like I find it. The thing that's missing. _

"Kindred." She pressed a cheek to his, both of them exhaling.

Hands on her bare back, feeling her jump.

Hands on his arms.

"Why don't we start this off with somethin' that won't hurt you at all. Not at all." He let his arm fall from her and she stepped back.

Buffy blinked. She didn't know where the little black-handled switchblade came from, but it was there, and then it was across one of the smoothest, whitest, most perfect arms in the world. He let out a little hiss of pain that curled his lips into a smile.

That's the arm I wanted, Buffy thought to herself.

When?

Images blurred, superimposed. The white arm with fine dark hairs, held out, sleeve rolled up. Dracula's. The curiosity tinged with self-loathing and mental fog.

This image. Tinged with burning curiosity. Desire.

He gasped when she fell like someone'd dropped her with a hammer blow to the back of her head. _Slayer's on her knees. Sweet bloody hell, she never bows, barely bends, and now she's down there? This is- Oh. Oh, never mind._

She seized his wrist hard in one hand, held his arm rigid and watched it flow down. _He's… beautiful. He's blood and snow, he's all the poetry. I want that. I want to taste that. I want to see… This time I get all of the truth. This time- the hunger stops._

She dragged her tongue not only over the blood, but over the cut, rising as her mouth moved higher, pupils dilating under closing lids.

_Pounding. Running. Angelus pointing a sword at her. Angelus slamming a young blonde man with long, tawny, tumbling bangs against a crumbling wall. She looked up at him as the sword sliced above her, and she caught it, twisting it in her own bare hands. The blonde man laughed, fire in his eyes, never submitting. _

"_We are. _

_Our own power._

_We are dark._

_We have light._

_We are light._

_We have dark."_

Voice layering over each other. Buffy blinked as the fluid past her lips and trickled down to dot her half-exposed chest.

"_Don't be afraid of what's inside. It's your own best weapon._

_Weapons kill." _

She drew back with a little gasp, but Spike grabbed her hair roughly, just this side of pain, fingers making little digs into her scalp, and she pulled once more against the blood that was ceasing to flow, a final mouthful, completing the lesson.

"_Weapons kill. We are the weapons. We are death."_

_Vampires exploded into dust around her._

_Humans with torn throats fell under his hands._

"_Weapons protect. We are the weapons. We are life."_

"Wow." Buffy looked up at him. And then the ceiling. Her eyes went back in her head and she fell.

To be continued...


	8. Part VIII

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: __stuff'n'nonsense__, kyanaM__, __ 666__, jbu1810, The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Brokenblackrose89, and the kind guest reviewers._

PART VIII

"Did you faint with him? Was that fainting?"

"Where am I?" She blinked.

"Still in my crypt. I put a pillow under your head. You bruised?"

"What happened?"

"You drank me."_ On your knees. You sucked the life out of me, the blood, what keeps me hard, keeps me movin' about. Part of it's your own. I drank you, you drank me. Is our circle unbroken, Baby?_ He stroked her hair and tried not to look at the five little specks of his blood dotting the hill of her half-covered breast.

"Did you hear the voices?"

"No."

"I'm insane."

"No. You just got the voices this time. I had 'em the other day. Dreams."

"Me, too. What happened in yours?" Buffy tried to sit up, then decided not to. Head rush. Woozy.

"Uh. Let's see now. I told you I'd help you. You touched my face- I remember you touched my face and my fangs popped up and I told you that they weren't meant for you to wear. You wanted to know why not. You wanted to know why you were okay in the darkness. And- uh- Drac had you in one of his little concubine get ups, all helpless and waif-like, and I told you to get the hell out of it and be the slayer. My slayer." He swallowed.

"That's all?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, he decided. "No, I told you I'd help you look for the source of your power, and you told me you'd help me find mine. Then - I bit you. An' you bit me. An' we said harder." He concluded his tale without looking at her. He felt strangely naked and vulnerable. He was usually just fine with being naked, he had all the nice bits to make a lady appreciate the view. But not like this. Naked in his mind, giving her quite the peep show.

"In my dream- not last night, yesterday when I took a nap at Giles', you were in it."

"How very _Wizard of Oz_."

"I was drowning. And you saved me. Then you said- you said you were drowning in me. And I breathed for you. And- and we said the same thing. Harder."

"We have a theme, huh?"

"We have to try harder?"

"What happened with the voices this time?" Harder had more than one meaning. One such interpretation was hurting his zip for the tenth time today.

She licked her lip. Tasted dried blood. "A poem. Or no- blank verse. Prose? A warning. A lesson. I don't know. It went like- We are our own power, we are dark, we are light, we have dark and have light- there was difference there, when I heard it. Like, things we are versus things we have."

"That's interesting. Was that it?"

"No. Don't be afraid of what's inside. You are your own best weapon. We are our own best weapons, I think it meant you and me, both of us. We are death. We are the weapons. Weapons also protect. We are life."

"That can't be right. It contradicts itself seven ways from Sunday!" Spike groused and fell back next to her. "I said no more mojo."

"It was _your_ blood!"

"Mhmm. And you- you devoured me, Slayer." He rolled to his side.

"I didn't. I did-"

"You went on your knees for me, Baby." He gave her a thoroughly debauched smile.

"Well- blood was- dripping down. It was a matter of position. No! Uh- height."

"I'll return the favor anytime."

"Oh, don't do this. No flirting," Buffy rolled away from him.

"It's not flirting. It's… sincere. Dirty, maybe, but sincere."

At that, she had to laugh. She tried not to.

"I know you weren't thinkin' like that." Spike felt like he ought to say something to let her know she needn't worry too much about him putting undesired moves on her.

"I really wasn't. But- unlike Dracula, which was just weird and confusing and gross- this was gross and- not entirely undesirable."

"Oooh, Luv, you _do_ turn my head," he fluttered his lashes at her and she laughed again. Laughed and wriggled closer. She swallowed. So did he. "Got unfinished business, Pet."

"I know," she murmured.

She sounded so… resigned. It twisted the heart of him and he spontaneously took her hand. "D'you really hate it?"

"Being bitten? Yes, with a capital HELL yes."

He nodded, unspeaking.

_He looks so- _miserable_ now._ "Spike?"

"I never really tortured humans. Well, a few especially vile chaps who ruined my human life, they got theirs, but it was quick. I fought humans. I killed 'em. Violently, yeah, absolutely. Angelus was the one who'd rape them and taunt them, make it unspeakable and then- speak on it a bit more."

Buffy closed her eyes, face a study in pain. "Don't."

"I can't do things to you that you hate. It makes me a different kind of monster. I know what I am. I know what I do- what I _did." _ He looked at her with a sigh. "I know what I don't do to you."

She took his hand. Squeezed. He squeezed back.

"I didn't hate yesterday by the end."

"That's a little mercy in a world full of pain, I s'pose."

"I can't tell you that I want it. 'Cause I don't."

"I didn't want you to lie."

"But I want you."

He watched her cover her mouth, looking ashamed. But her eyes were honest. "I want you, too."

"I want- what you do me, no- what we do together." Her lithe little fingers trailed up his arm carefully, afraid to.

Something woke back up in him. _If she wants it, if the bite is part of it- it's not wrong. It's not torture, least not my bit of it. _"Tell me what you want."

"Spike, I just-"

"Please?" Rolled to his side- rolled onto hers, hand cupping her face.

"Just you." She leaned a little closer. Lips brushed skin. "So wrong."

"Not wrong between two people in- in this situation. Belong to me."

"No!"

"Shhh. I belong to you, too. I'm yours until it's all done."

_And when it's done… will I finally be satisfied? Know what I'm missing? Or just missing him? Will I feel empty and hungry again, waiting to get filled and no one knowing how to do it?_

_Kissing is less complicated than thinking. Let's go with that._

* * *

"Let's go down." Spike broke off one particularly draining kiss, using every ounce of restraint to form words and not just a lot of groaning, growling whimpers that meant he wanted her blood in his mouth and other parts of her would be welcome as well.

"What?" Her eyes gave him that guilty, "I promise I wasn't" stare.

"Down to the lower level. This isn't goin' by quickly at all. It's already taking the time it did last time- not that I'm complaining. Got nowhere else to be. But in case someone who likes to beat me up for information should storm in and find me performing my fangy-responsibilities…"

"Okay. Let's go down. Downstairs." _Do not think about going down on Spike. Or him on you. Or - or anything. _

"You don't have to get to squirmy."

"I couldn't help it!" She thought about the previous encounter, her spread hips bucking on his knee. _Oh God, I humped Spike._

"I meant," he sighed patiently, "squirmy as in guilty. I'm no prude. I won't break any confidences in here. This is private. This is between you an' me."

"I do have a boyfriend, though."

"Yeah, he loves to remind me," Spike huffed, jealousy seeping out, and not going unnoticed.

"He already thinks this is my excuse to give Angel a happy."

"Well, that killed the mood nice and dead." Spike lifted the trap door and took her hand to lead her below.

"I don't get off on vampires."

"I know that. I thought maybe you were- it's stupid, come on." He yanked a little harder than he meant to, and she careened down, grabbing at that damned top again.

"Maybe I was what?"

"Thinking of me as myself, not me as as thing. A 'species.'" He lit a couple of candles, trying to think soothing thoughts_. Get out of the angry mood. Back to sex and blood. Not that there's going to be sex, but it's better than anger if you want to do this right without a migraine._

"You always call me 'Slayer," Buffy pointed out defensively.

"Yeah, but I don't go around callin' you 'human'! Slayer is who you are, partly."

Buffy sat on the edge of a bed that was considerably nicer than her own, thinking.

_I like Spike. I want Spike. Not like I want my boyfriend. This is like a - like one of those Venn Diagram things where everything meshes, and then there's a couple things that are under the graph. Not part of any set. _

_Like Spike and me. _

_Like us as in an "us." _

"Do you get off on it because it's Slayer blood?"

"The blood's nice. I get off- or well, I _could-_ on you being close to me an' wantin' me. Kissin' me. Touching me. Shit, Slayer, this-"

"-is a really, really big, bad, deep, dark secret. I can't. Do - certain things," she choked out. _But I feel close to him. Close to him like I don't feel close to anyone else and it feels wrong to have to tell him not to touch me in nice ways. _"It's not- not because I don't - it's not a reflection on you. Does that make any sense?"

_She has rules she won't break. But I bet it's hard for her not to. If her mind is goin' the way mine is…_ He shrugged. "Not all. But some?"

Her head nodded slowly.

"Touch?"

Head nodded slowly again.

"Kiss me?" This wasn't a hypothetical. He'd come to sit beside her, and reached for her shoulder. She turned into his embrace, chest to chest.

"Let me?" Ran his fingertip over the bite, watched her shiver. _Girl has to have half the power. It's what she needs. Make her happy. Strong. Smiling. Fighting. Living. _

Took her hand and ran it over his own bite. "I'm yours."

"Mm!" Needy little exclamation- and she pounced.

* * *

"Harder."

"Not yet," he warned. Couldn't feel her fully relaxing, even though he was kissing her senseless and she was doing the opposite, enervating him to the point where he might combust, kissing him hard, digging her nails in, making little grunts in his ear.

"Yes, yet!" she insisted, and played her trump card, "You're mine. I want you."

"Fuck."

He plunged his fangs in and latched on. Her hips did that spasming trick again, but his knee wasn't handy.

Buffy gasped. His hands were yanking at her zipper, her belt, rough and hurried. "No! Spike, no, not-"

"Shh!" he growled and thrust his fingers past the zip. "Helping!" he said sharply, and stayed still.

Her hips moved, finding fingers on the outside, thin, wet layer of fabric between them. _He shouldn't touch me there. Wrong. Bad._

_Special. Close. Connected. _

_Like little lights in the darkness, just two candle flames merging into one. _She didn't know where the imagery came from.

"But you-"

"You'll help me next." It wasn't a question. It was trust._ We do this for each other. We have to. She's mine. I'm hers. You've got to look after the other half of the outfit._

He lifted away from the bite completely. "You know I won't hurt you. I thought you might feel better if you… got the pressure off."

"I would."

"I know you like me inside, Slayer. Pulse for me. Two little holes, open and wet, just swallow me. Beg for me to pay you a visit. But I don't overstay my welcome."

_Wrong, wrong, wong, God, I love him being wrong._ "Not that- so much," Buffy panted.

"Tell me," tongue flicked her ear, and face lowered, preparing to join with her again.

"I want you."

"More specifically?"

"I like you inside."

"Don't worry, Baby. I like you around me just as much."

"Might as well find out," she whispered, liking the look of shock that overtook the cocky features before she took control of his wrist, fed his hand past the crotch of her panties, fingers in between soaking lips.

"Oh, shit, fuck, bloody- I- Talk later." Spike gave up his litany of enthusiastic curses as she wrapped around him. So bloody tight, couldn't imagine what that part wrapped around other pieces would be. Well, he could. _Bite. Bite her now, make her cum._

He bit. Fingers pistoned, harder than they should have, and she whimpered and dug her hands into his hair. Top fell down, and he lunged for nipples, dragging bloody kisses all over her, marking her up, painting her.

"You can do whatever you want to me," he made rash promises. Reassurances. It was hard for her to let pleasure rule, hard for her to trust. Maybe if she knew she could take it all out on him later-

"Wh-what are you going to do now?" Like she couldn't have stopped him if she wanted to. Her nervousness was not from fear. Rather from finding the dark center she'd been looking for, finding out it felt… good. And the bad man giving it to her- he was good. Somehow. In some ways. And she was dark. In some ways.

"I was gonna explore you a little, make you cum, and love at you a bit, make sure you feel like you ought to. If you're mine- you're supposed to feel cared for." _Loved. _

"Then that's what I'll do to you. Next. Or now. That was a bite?"

"Two or three. Did it break anything?"

"I can't tell. I don't feel pulled apart. But I don't feel… entirely relieved."

"I'll do that bit."

* * *

"Magic. Hands. Hands were magic. Broke your own rule. You said no more magic." Buffy weakly tossed her shirt away. "Are my boobs bleeding?"

"No. Just kisses from me after I had my snack." He nuzzled her and licked away traces. Then licked his fingers as well, eyes closing as he tasted the heat he could feel, pulled out from her core as she spasmed around him, crying his name. She stared, wide eyed. "Sorry, did you want some?"

"Ew."

"Don't you say ew about my sweet Slayer!" Spike glared at her. "She's delicious. How'd you know if you never tried?"

"That's not- what I'm into."

"Oh, pish, after Soldier Boy takes his tour of duty," he gestured vaguely to her nether regions, "and he gives you a kiss, you don't-" She shook her head. "You don't?"

"Never."

"Well, there's more…"

"Not right now. I have other things to do." Buffy sat up.

_She's leaving? Well, she could. I suppose this has gotten terribly heavy for Ms. Vanilla. _

"Can I take you up on a shirt? I'm freezing."

"Yeah, of course-" He began to gesture to the pile of Harmony's leftovers, but she simply reached over past his shoulder and grabbed the black tee he'd been wearing. "Bit big on you."

"It's okay. I mean- it's not sexy, but-"

"It's dead sexy, Precious." Spike gave her a very approving look as she pulled it on over her head. "You don't have to dress that part, Luv. You _are_ the part. You are the weapon. You are the light. You _have_ the dark."

It clicked. "You are the dark. You have the light. Spike, we match! We're the set! We're the- we're kindred! Like, for real!"

She launched herself into his arms, relief obviously etched on her face, overwhelming him into smiling and laughing back. And squirming when she sat in his lap and bounced joyously.

"Right, my turn," she eased the buckle open while he was still staring at her in shock.

"What are you-"

"Making you feel good." Tap into it, a little voice urged. _This is your power, too. Power not over him, with him. He's yours. You could own him._ "Is this mine? This piece?" she ran her hand down the zip.

He made a strangled noise, nodding. She took the pull in her hand and tugged slowly.

"What does it like?"

"Uh- easy to- please, really." He hadn't expected the question. She lifted him out, head tilting like a curious cat examining a new toy.

"You said I could do what I want."

"You can."

"So… if I said you could do what you want to me?"

"I'd do things that we didn't do tonight. But nothing mean. Nothin' hurtful. You'd have to be-" his speech patterns wouldn't hold up, she'd started touching him, slowly, mesmerizingly, warm fingers all over his cock, balls to tip and then back, a tantalizing trail.

"Have to be what?"

"Have to be evil to hurt something so beautiful as you."

She stopped touching him. "You _are _evil."

He winced, not from her touch, but from something hot that hit him inside. "I don't think I'm quite up to snuff on that score, Luv. If being evil means hurting you, I gotta stop it. Gotta- find a new way. To use the darkness." Click. _Click, click, click, all the tumblers falling into place_. _She's infecting me. I caught goodness from her. But I don't care too much. _

"Like the dream?"

"Like the dream."

"Well… I'd have to be evil to hurt something so beautiful. This is beautiful. I didn't think you were beautiful until yesterday- or today. So now… I just want to make you cum. And I don't know how." Her voice was musing, ponderously playful.

"If you just snug your hand up a little, you'll-"

"What part do I bite while I'm doing this?" she asked innocently, pumping him up and down.

"Slayer!" His spine lost vertical hold and he collapsed.

"Pants should be off," she said simply.

" 'Kay."

"Boots too."

"I'm yours, undress me as you like."

"No, no, you have to help!" she batted his leg. "And you still didn't answer my question!"

"I'm too blissed out. High. So fuckin' high on my girl…" he moaned as her hand still langorously pumped him.

"Do I bite you here?" She ran a hand over his chest, landing on a nipple.

"That's a good spot."

"Or here?" Touched his neck.

"Jackpot."

* * *

_It's just nudity. Everyone has bodies. Some have parts that indent. Some have parts that stick out._ Buffy hesitantly dropped her pants and underwear to the floor, took the shirt she'd recently acquired back off. He was naked and reclining still, stiff all over, not just in one noticeable spot. Almost nervous.

"Why are _you _nervous?" she demanded.

"Because you are. Because I'm with you and I don't want to mess it up," he said bluntly. He looked up in time to see her climbing onto his bed, completely bare.

_Pretty curls. Sweet hips. And scared. Scared I'll push in between them and plunder and pillage. Use something bigger than my hands and hurt her. Rob her of the last piece of intimacy she saves for Finn. _

_ She'll send him on his way soon. She sees now. Poor thing. He'll hurt her for that._

He wrapped his arms around her with sudden protectiveness. "It's nice of you to put on the matching outfit," he whispered.

"Well, I hate to be tacky," she whispered back.

"Don't worry. I know it's not for me. That piece."

_Yes it is! He owns you. He should be the first one to have you now that you're- what? Something was different. _

_ Now that you can see yourself better. You should show him. He should be the first to taste you where you're dark and light and all mixed up together._

_ But not now. Now is for him. _

She flattened on top of him, hand between their bodies, wrapping around him. Lined her face up to his, kissed him, and then moved to his neck.

"Harder," he hissed when she only grazed him, a tickle when he needed the shove.

"Harder!" She got the pressure right on his jugular, but was too gentle down below.

"I don't want to hurt my lover," she whispered, not knowing the words would come, and not knowing how to remove them once they had landed in his ear.

"All the energy. All the energy he forced in you to hold you- you can take it out on me."

"I'm not taking it out… letting it out. Doesn't belong to him. Belongs to us."

* * *

She made him wail. Head thrown back suddenly, scoring his skin via her grasping, nibbling, clamping teeth, leaving blood on her cheek and lips. Made him erupt, surprisingly hot and wet, coating her hand and their chests.

"Go on," he dared her, looking at her wet hand. Tilted his head. Flicked his tongue like a serpent scenting sex.

"I -no."

"Never?"

"No."

"All right…" Took her hand slowly, so she could see without mistake what was happening. How he devoured his own cum off of her, tongue doing sinful things to her fingers that made her want to ask him to try those moves out lower. "Now you. Go on." He traced a puddle off her narrow waist and dared her again. She opened her mouth, lips spasming in uncertainty. "You drank me. You already have me programmed into you. He's never done this with you. No one has. Put me in your system."

Like code words. Her head bobbed on him, gracefully engulfing him, and he sprang back up. "Good?"

"Very," she regarded him calmly. Inside her mind did a spiral. _I am such a slut. Bad, bad, naughty, porn star- oh shut up. Spike loves me. He loves me like this._ She let out a terrified sound.

"What's wrong, Luv?"

"Oh. Nothing. I sometimes- I- I did a lot of new stuff. And I'm freaking a little bit. But not a lot. It's okay, right? It's going to be okay?"

"You ought to be home free after this- or another few times."

"But we're not going to end the bond for amwhile, right? Until we're sure Dracula can't sneakily restart his own?"

_We never have to end it. Oh no. No, no, not like this. I'm falling for her and it's all wrong and she'll never love me back. _He let out a startled grunt, like someone kicked him in the solar plexus.

"Are you okay?"

"Head rush. Just fine. That's right, Luv. We'll make sure we leave it in place for a good long time. As long as you want."

"As long as I want?"

"Well, yeah. You're the one that's gonna want to get out from under this."

"But I thought - I thought I kind of - wasn't it a little bit mutual?"

"Very," Spike pulled the sheet up over his hips. "But I don't mind having it."

She said nothing. He finally looked up. She was staring at him and indecipherable expression on her pretty face.

"I should go soon."

"Mhm."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Of course. Every night you need me."

The words came out in a rush. "My mom is going to St. Petersburg for three days, starting tomorrow."

"Why the hell is Joyce going to Russia?"

"No, Florida. Her best friend from college is having a showing- she's an artist."

"Fun. Lovely. Why is this relevant?"

"I know you're worried about people coming in here. A person in particular. Do you want to come over? We have doors that actually lock."

_She's asking me over. This feels wrong. But I like it. Slayer's pretty room. Pretty bed. Pretty body wrapped around me. _"Tell me the time."

"Nine?"

"I'll be there." He leaned over to her suddenly, kissed her hard on the lips, a kiss that had nothing to do about needing to relax her or lull her senses. "I can't keep away."

"I know what you mean."

* * *

"The Watchers' Council may be able to help us. They're looking into it. Apparently- no other slayer has even come close to wounding Dracula. Killing him two out of the three required times is a feat unheard of. Even then, since he's still alive, they only have guesswork on what it would be like to fight him to the death. Buffy's experience is invaluable. In short, they owe her, yet again."

"So- how are they going to help us?" Willow frowned.

"They didn't actually say."

"Why can't she just visit Angel?" Anya contentedly painted her nails, making Giles yelp and move one of his dusty tomes away from her.

"Riley. Freakage." Willow gave Xander a look and both shook their heads, annoyance and consternation in their eyes.

"Wh-when is he coming back from visiting his army friend?" Tara asked.

"I'm not terribly worried. He didn't seem to be overly useful the other night. That mirror was my mother's." Giles' lips thinned.

"His testosterone shouldn't matter more than Buffy's life."

"As much as I hate the guy- Angel, not Riley, this seems like a sure fire way to- you know. Erase this thing? And, I know we don't talk about it, but just because they're not together, doesn't mean they don't have feelings for each other. He came to help her at Thanksgiving last year. And with Adam- although, that turned more into him and Riley shouting and beating each other up."

"Yes, neither of those things went spectacularly well," Giles murmured.

"But he cares for her, and he already bit her once. I don't like that about him." Xander grimaced.

"Greater good, Honey," Anya prompted.

"Right, he can handle this. But… does anyone think that him getting all kissy with her and creating this big bond with her, then telling her it's over, is going to hurt her worse? Like, Dracula is making her hyper and he _could_ hurt her, but Angel_ shattered _her, multiple times. And we're just inviting the pain. I know Buffy's tough enough to handle any big hellspawn-y demon, but Angel doesn't just go for her throat. He goes for her heart. There is not enough super glue in the universe to put her heart back together if he does this again."

Silence greeted his statement. Nods, reluctantly given, went around the room.

Giles spoke at last. "I'm afraid, Xander's right. Buffy and I have contacted him. They've talked. Decided against it."

"So we need another vampire? Man, what are we going to do?" Xander looked stunned.

"Doesn't the Watchers' Council have vampires? They had one for that test on her 18th birthday. Do you think they plan to help her like that, by lending her one of them?" Willow asked nervously.

"Only if they're utterly insane! Those beasts are primed to kill slayers, not help them. There would be no bond formed, none whatsoever." Giles sat back in his chair, hand over his eyes.

Tara and Willow exchanged glances. Did Giles know? Or not know? Someone was already helping Buffy.

Xander paced. "Only if they're insane? Well, they fired you- best Watcher ever. They tried to kill Faith-slash-Buffy during the great switch-eroo. They sent Wesley, who can barely hold a stake, let alone Buffy's attention, to replace you. So, they are insane. Totally."

Giles sat back up. "Oh, dear Lord."

"That's never good, is it?" Tara whispered.

"Nope," Willow whispered back.

"I'm gonna say something. Something I don't want to say. But I will. So, Wills, you remember that whole Thy Will Be Done spell? Happy engaged Buffy?" Xander looked at them, features frozen in a wince. "That was new levels of disgusting."

"Yeah…" Willow blushed, guilt flooding her. Giles sat still, waiting.

"Could you do it again? Without calling Giles blind and me a demon magnet? What if you just get Buffy's permission first, and then you, y'know 'poof'. Re-engage Buffy and Spike for a few days. He was willing to die for her. He didn't know he could fight demons back then, and he was still going after them by the end of the fight, because he wouldn't let them hurt her. And- and engaged! That's a bond! That's sort of pre-ownership. Don't look at me, I'm not a neanderthal, I'm using vampire logic here. And boy, does my hurt."

"That's a very good idea," Giles said quickly.

"It_ is_?" Tara, Anya, and Willow gasped.

"It is?" Even Xander sounded doubtful.

"An engaged couple has a very powerful bond, and if he was willing to die for her, we can imagine that he'd be willing to defend her honor, as it were, from Dracula and his enforced hold on her. If they believe themselves to be in love, they'll trust each other and can complete certain other necessary things."

"Like biting and sex?" Anya clarified helpfully.

"No! Well, yes, the biting. And kissing. We all remember the absolutely nauseating display of endless kissing."

"Not me," Tara spoke up. "B-but that's okay. I'll catch it this time. Or not. That sounds- private."

"But guys, I didn't do an engagement spell! I did a spell _wrong_. It was a mistake. And the thing with that mistake is- I don't know what I even did wrong, aside from having a broken heart and being all unfocused! Now I'm focused and my heart is completely mended." She shot Tara a glowing beam.

"No, the idea of an engagement spell is not necessarily valid, but the participants could be convinced to interact."

"Riley wouldn't allow it," Anya put the lid on her nail polish and blew on her nails. "And Spike is chipped. The only way he could bite her would be to torture himself and possibly be knocked unconscious, which would prevent biting. Or if Buffy found biting pleasurable. Some women do. And men. Giles- didn't you find biting pleasurable?"

"Stop it. Stop that right now." Giles glared at her sternly.

"What are you talking about?" Xander looked mystified- and horrified. Willow's mouth wouldn't shut. Tara looked at her hands.

Anya didn't see what the big deal was. W_hy are humans so hung up on bodies and emotions? Everyone has them. They have to be dealt with._ "All of you stop looking at me like that. Giles was in the pit. With the Dracula brides? They probably gave him a couple little bites."

"They did no such thing! Just - nibbles." Giles defensively tucked his arms more tightly around himself. "I'll- I'll see if there is a way we could convince Spike and Buffy to indulge in such a - a partnership. But all of you must listen to me very carefully. I don't often ask you for personal favors."

"Don't tell anyone you have a biting kink?" Anya asked.

"Ahn, honey. Later? Not now. Also, on second thoughts- not later."

"Riley is very dear to Buffy, we know this. But he is… blinded by his own love. He fears for her safety. Leaving Dracula's hold on her is gravely unsafe. If he thinks Spike is a - a threat- he would kill him."

"Spike is helpless!" Tara shook her head.

"Even I wouldn't kill him- and I really, _really _want to," Xander spoke up.

Anya shrugged. "Riley would kill him. He's an escaped lab project. He kills those all the time. He doesn't care about helpless. He cares about definitions. Demon. Defined as bad, killable." She shuddered.

"Then why hasn't he already done it?" Tara asked nervously.

"Because Spike helps us sometimes. And Buffy's not a killer. She won't kill things that aren't a threat. If Riley did that… hm. Buffy'd dump him," Anya mused.

"Over _Spike_?" Xander shook his head in disbelief.

"No. Over the fact that her boyfriend can kill in cold blood. Because it wouldn't be a battle. Spike can't fight back. And it wouldn't be to save her from harm, he's unable to injure her," Giles said softly.

"This is getting too messy," Willow whined, anxiously plucking at her sweater.

"Last night made me very uncomfortable when he threw that book and shattered the mirror. Controlled rage turns out of control very quickly, and I don't know how he would feel about ex-demons in the heat of the moment."

Xander shook his head "He'd never hurt you. You're human."

"Am I human, or ex-demon?" Anya shivered and moved into Xander's arms. "When he's really mad, will he know the difference, or will it matter? He already treats 'murdering vampire' the same as 'harmless vampire'."

"This brings me back to my personal favor. I am Buffy's Watcher. She is very important to me, as are all of you. You_ must not _tell Riley that I plan to approach Spike on Buffy's behalf. He will kill Spike. Buffy will remain uncured until we can convince another vampire to help, Dracula dies, or- or she is lost to us."

"Promise," Willow spoke first.

"Promise," Tara agreed solemnly.

"Promise." Anya raised her hand.

"I promise." Xander nodded seriously. "For Buffy."

"I'm a terrible liar," Willow panicked.

"Avoid him."

"But I-"

"We don't have to lie." Tara shook her head. "Don't tell us much. If Riley asks us if you've made any plans, we can say you have some people you might talk to, like the Watchers. If he asks us if we've seen Spike- well, we haven't. Have you guys?"

Heads shaking all around. Giles hadn't seen him for two days and considered his answer honest since she hadn't given a terribly specific time frame.

"Good. Then we say we haven't seen him. He'll be fine."

Willow looked excited. "Oooh! We could make him a protection charm! If- if he'll help."

Giles waved the idea away, "I don't think that's-"

"He might save Buffy from enduring centuries of sexual servitude with the undead, not to mention being an object of male egocentrism, the ultimate trophy wife," Anya pointed out.

The room was quiet. "If he helps- put me down for a fruit basket," Xander rose and got his coat. "Need to clear my head. I'm sick of good guys and bad guys with interchangeable loyalties."

"It's a rum old world. Ladies, any protection charm that you feel like making- give to Buffy. If she finds a suitable partner for this endeavor, Spike or someone else, she can pass it on to him. Whoever it is may need protection from Riley."

"That seems so wrong. Very, very wrong," Willow murmured.

And that should tell us something, Giles thought as he poured himself a drink.

* * *

To be continued...


	9. Part IX

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: __stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, 666, sjwheelhan, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Brokenblackrose89, and the kind guest reviewers._

PART IX

"Will you tell me something?

"Anything. But first, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Now. That spell? What the _hell _was it used for?"

Giles looked at the clock in the living room from his vantage point on the couch. Nearly midnight. "Sacrificial spells. Where something had to be removed from the victim, or rather the- uh- participants."

"Well, you sure can't feel what they're taking. I almost died of a panic attack. I thought I_ was_ dying. I couldn't feel my whole body, couldn't feel myself breathing or my heart beating! It was horrible. Way worse than biting."

"I'm sorry you had trouble, dear. And I'm so sorry you have to be- you're enduring- hrm- bites. How is Spike? Is he badly hurt as well?"

"He never hurts me," Buffy replied automatically. She sat on her bed, wrapped in a towel, wer hair pulled back. The two bites were in the same place. Her neck was swollen and tender. And she couldn't leave the skin of it alone. Couldn't leave other places alone, either._ Bad hand!_ She guiltily fastened it to her knee to prevent it wandering under her towel while she was on the phone with Giles. The thought of those two things occuring at once caused another near death experience, this time from embarrassment.

"How is he-"

"Gentle. He's so... he cares about me now. You know? Like he has to take care of me because he marked me."

Giles gave the phone an alarmed look. Her voice was all soft and dreamy. "Buffy… you do know that this is not real."

"What, he doesn't care about me?"

Now the voice was angry, accusing. "I mean, yes, it's real, but it's because you two are connected. You must be connected very well indeed, to profess care for each other."

"I didn't say I cared about him."

"Well, quite. I imagine-"

"But I do."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I know it's weird. But when you have to let someone help you, you see how they'd treat you when you're down. Spike treats me like I want to be treated. He never thinks I'm helpless. He hates when people underestimate me. He doesn't do that anymore. He learned his lesson pretty quickly." She let out a sleepy laugh. "I like that about him."

"Ah. Yes. Respect. Worthy adversary. Do you think the hold is broken?"

"No. I didn't do the second thing. Where I drink from him. I did it once, have to do it twice. Then it should be, if the theory of two-for-one specials holds up."

Giles shuddered. "You're being so brave."

_No. I'm really not_. Buffy paused. "Giles? You know how Dracula said I had darkness and I wanted to learn about my own power and stuff like that?"

"Yes?"

"He never helped me at all."

"I know, Buffy. It was trickery, and thousands of older, wiser heads have been deluded into -"

"Spike helps me. I get something that I didn't get before."

"What?"

"Myself. Dracula's bite made me weaker. Spike's make me stronger. I like that. I don't really get how- exactly. They just do."

Giles blinked. _Damn_. Eyes were moist. But something in her triggered it in him, had so many times. Confidence in her voice. Happy, sure, resolute confidence. He hadn't heard it often, and not in so long. It was absent, or tinged with heartbreak, anger, or pain. This simply… existed. "I am delighted, Buffy. Thank him for me."

"Any news on the spell-creation front? Word from Watcher Land?"

"Ah."

"Oh no."

"Well, no spells directly related to this issue. Let me come back to that. The Council said they may be able to help us. They were- actually quite impressed. No other Slayer has fought him and gotten him two out of the three times required to properly end him. Also, the three methods cannot be the same, and again, this is all lore and speculation, since the bastard is still alive."

Buffy tsked in annoyance."Of course, just plain staking is too good for him, he has to want some decapitation thrown in. Jerk. That's so much more work."

"Er. Yes. Quite. Now, a truly horrid thought did arise. That the Council has trained vampires, well, not trained, per se. Rather, they have some captive. If they foolishly thought they could convince one of the ones held for the Cruciamentum-"

"Stop. No, just no. I could not bond with anything like that. Those things are supposed to kill me, they don't want to cuddle!"

"Agreed. Did you say cuddle?"

"Not bond-y, okay?"

"We cannot let them attempt such a heinous idea. But as Xander pointed out, they are full of heinous ideas, the Cruciamentum being one of them. And, you will not believe what Xander then suggested."

"Angel?"

"No. Spike. You and Spike rekindle your spellbound romance long enough to free you from Dracula's hold. As an engaged couple, you'd have some intimate and serious bond, you'd kiss, and... yes. All the pieces would just fall into place."

"But- but I don't think we need that. We're getting along great!"

_They are? Good heavens. What in the world is happening? She actually sounds… pleased? More than pleased. _"That's not the point. The point is, they were all supportive of you're asking Spike, but worried that Riley would hurt him for his role in freeing you."

Buffy paused. Her hand lingered on her neck again. She felt… safe when she touched that spot. _Connected. I've been losing all the connections, fighting hard to rebuild all the things I broke over the course of Freshman year. My heart was broken. Disconnected. I let Riley in- but it was all based on misinformation and lies, and then the Faith thing and- so many things_. "Giles? Does what you said sound wrong to you? Doesn't that sound like…" her voice wavered, "doesn't that sound bad? I'm- I can't live as a vampire. If I ever get- you have to-" She had trouble swallowing. "Promise me you won't let me stay like that for long?"

"Buffy, please. Don't torture yourself. We will find a way." He unscrewed his bottle of Scotch again. He ignored the glass.

"I need to be freed, and for once in my whole life, I cannot get myself out of this mess, not for sure. I need help."

"You have it."

"But Riley would kill the man setting me free from a life as a demon. Life with someone else, someone I don't even love, stuck in my own body without my own soul. It's my worst nightmare. I can't." She clamped her hand harder to the small, deep holes on her neck. _Spike's washing him out of me. Snapping little pieces of chains that would tie me to that life. Life where I can't even control my body, my brain. Being thralled and subdued- it's the opposite of knowing about myself. It's Dracula manipulating me, to have me how he wants me. _"I can't exist like that," she whispered desperately.

"You won't!"

"I believe that- as long as Riley doesn't interfere. Giles, I think I'm falling out of love with him. If I ever was before. And it's not because I kissed Spike or he bit me. It's because I weigh my freedom against his wishes- and I'm second." _Like Dracula? His wishes above my freedom? _ "I give and I give, but I can't give that much. Riley can't have Spike. He can't take him from me." _And he can't take _me_ from me. There's still more to know. I don't know it all, but I don't feel- hey. I don't feel that urgent, going-to-explode hunger anymore. It's like I've been given something to snack on, little pieces of me._

_He gives me the little pieces until I'm whole, and darkness isn't scary, and light isn't everything._ "I need him, Giles."

_Oh dear. Oh- and this is very inadequate- dear._ He kept his tone brisk. "Your friends agreed Spike is the next best, safest option. Willow wants to make him a protection charm. Xander wanted to buy him a fruit basket."

"Pardon? Fruit?" That jolted her back to reality. Reality sounded equally odd, though.

"I know, I know. It's his way of saying he gives tacit approval. He loves you enough to see you free, whatever the cost- provided you're amenable to it. But all I told them was that I would approach Spike. I didn't say this was already underway. I did make them promise to avoid Riley and to keep this secret. I trust they will."

"Spike really thinks Riley would kill him."

"I know."

"Do you think he would? He knows Spike can't fight back."

Silence.

"Spike stopped hurting people."

"Yes."

"He helps me."

"Yes."

"If you kill a defenseless being, a walking, talking, thinking, loving being who is trying to save someone's life- are you a murderer?"

Silence.

"Giles?"

"Spike has murdered hundreds. Thousands."

"He isn't going to die unless someone kills him. What if he saves thousands? He already helped me save the world, and stopped Adam. I mean, in the end. Let's just stick to the Acathla thing. That's - let's split it with everyone who helped and say that he gets a small share- a half billion? He saved a half-billion."

"Buffy, you're trying to justify affection you feel for him during this peculiar circumstance."

"No. I know that's the bonding thing. I'm not justifying. I'm wondering. Why would Riley kill him? Now? I would understand if he wanted to earlier, pre-chip."

"Buffy, you know the answer to that."

"Because he bit me? He didn't kill me. He didn't take a life. He did it without causing pain or even _trying_ to kill me. Trying to help me."

"Riley simply-"

"Take Riley out. Take Spike out. Answer this. If a man with a weapon disables another man, takes his weapon, and kills him, is it a fair fight?"

"I can't see it being one."

"Is it murder?"

"Yes. I think it would be. But now you have to put things into perspective. Spike is a vampire without a soul and is only behaving due to the chip."

"But he_ is _behaving. And he couldn't possibly fight back without getting hurt. If he had his chip taken away and he went on a rampage, I'd stake him." Her heart cringed inside. _Don't worry. He won't. It's okay. It's safe with him. _She soothed herself, hand on her neck, mimicking his fingers, tracing throat, finding scars.

"You know the answer."

"It's murder. In my eyes."

"Your eyes are the only ones that matter. You must choose whom you love."

"I don't love Spike."

"Nor did I think that. You still have to choose whom you love, even if the choice isn't between two people."

_But it kind of is. I'm choosing between two men who could become murderers, just given the right circumstances. _

_I have seriously sucky dating skills. This isn't dating._

_Oh no, I always make out or plan to for three nights in a row with guys I'm _not_ dating. Argh. _"Brain is owchie."

"I think you need to sleep," Giles instructed softly.

"Mom is leaving in the morning, really early. I need to be up to say goodbye to her. Giles? Do you think I'm a bad girlfriend? I know I asked before, but I- I keep having to ask myself, and I'm not feeling too reliable right now, so I'm asking you. You're like the most reliable, boring person I know- oh. I meant that in a positive way." She winced. "More brain pain."

He laughed, a soft sighing laugh. "I think you are a wonderful Slayer, wonderful friend and daughter- and yes, an excellent girlfriend,… but you need the right sort of man."

"I seem to do better with monsters."

He'd felt himself quite a monster during his youthful indiscretions with demon possession and worship. And he'd literally experienced the feeling of being a demon when turned into one by Ethan Rayne. "Every human has something that can become quite monstrous."

"Hmm. Deep, Watcher-Mine. You know what I'm starting to wonder?"

"Tell me?"

"If certain monsters have something in them that can become quite human."

They exchanged one last goodnight. She curled up to sleep, still in her towel.

He put down the bottle. Something in the monster- that can become quite human.

_If anyone could develop such feelings in a vampire- it's her._

_Bloody hell. I wish this were all over already and I knew what the outcome would be_. He headed up the stairs and turned back. He decided he ought to take the bottle with him.

* * *

_The blue mist curled around her subconscious. Weak. Pulsing and angry._

"_Oi! Sod off! You, hop it back to your castles and your box of dirt." _

_It snarled. He snarled back, much louder, letting the roar ring, turning his neck to show a scrape, a bare human scratch, on his neck. "I got the keys to this place, not you."_

_The mist growled low, fading, backing off like an animal confronted by a much bigger predator._

"_Spike? What are you doing in here?" Buffy left her bed, which promptly faded away. Yep, definitely a dream._

"_This is _my _dream. What's Wonder Vamp doin' in my head?"_

"_This is not your head. He's in mine."_

"_Well, not anymore he isn't. The only one inside you is me."_

_Two figures, blurry, become more solid, more defined. He wore jeans, unzipped, belt still in the loops but undone, shirtless, how he'd fallen asleep. She was in a towel. _

"_Are you really in here?" Buffy squinted._

"_Huh. I don't know. I- seem solid. But I don't recognize this place."_

_Buffy turned around. Her bed had gone. Part of the place was shadow, part was dimly lit, but brighter. _

"_Say something cryptic."_

"_Why?"_

"_My dreams are all symbolic and stuff."_

"_Uh… the duck flies at midnight. Hop a train to Bora-Bora."_

"_You are not helping. Hm. Must be you."_

"_Well, why am I visitin' your head? Why are you in my dream? I'm asleep, finally!"_

"_So am I! And this isn't just my head, maybe. Maybe we're in a- a shared space."_

"_Do you mean I have to see you wakin' and sleepin'? That's a bit much."_

"_Oh. Well… help me wake up, then. Or maybe there's a door in this brain?" Buffy turned away, looking hurt._

_He came up to her. "Don't leave."_

_His nearness and the muted sadness in his eyes erased her intention. "I won't."_

"_I gotta bluster a bit. So it won't be such a big deal when this is all over. I wasn't really complaining about seeing you in my dreams. I've been seeing you there for days."_

"_I see you in there, too. But- this is different."_

"_Definitely."_

"_Right." _

_She tried to look composed. "Right." _

"_What do you think we're doing in here together?"_

"_Maybe looking for answers?"_

"_To what?"_

"_I don't know…" she sighed and looked for something to sit down on. "These dreams are not well-furnished. I swear I left a bed over there."_

_The bed popped back, larger than life, looming, a thing of pillars and canopies, more like some sort of altar than mere bedroom furniture._

"_Hmm. Your headspace is more cooperative than your wakin' self."_

"_Really not. This is a change. And that is so not my bed. Although, it's pretty awesome. Maybe it's trying to show off for you," she giggled at him._

_He smirked at her. Their dreamscape shifted, blocking out empty space, bringing them toward the bed. "I had a thought." He waited for the jibe. She didn't make one. "I wonder if we're here to do something we can't do on the outside."_

"_Like what?"_

_Shifted again. Onto the bed. Knee to knee. Towel to denim. Bare chest to cotton and exposed shoulders_

_Her eyes widened. She touched her neck and he could hear- even in this dream, her heartbeat slowing back to steady. "Sweetheart." He ran his hands up and down her arms, slowly. _

"_It's not real."_

"_But we're real enough." He reached for her hand. "In here, it doesn't count, then. Whatever you wanted to do. I'm yours, remember?"_

"_But won't you remember it in the morning?"_

"_I sure hope so."_

_Kissed her. _

_Clothes weren't on. Falling backward, landing in cushiony softness, piles of softness, but he was hard, all over hard, muscles, arms, jutting erection. She was soft, but her eyes were not. Wouldn't relax. "Shhh, shhh," he soothed._

"_Spike…" _

"_Give me a taste, Baby?"_

_She turned her head automatically. Not even afraid anymore. It's just something we do, it never hurts._

"_No. The other drink I want." His hand hovered over her. Hand came down. Touched the inside of her knee and she swallowed hard. His touch hesitated, began to reach for the soft opening he had briefly sheathed his fingers in earlier, pleasuring her while he drank, removing any trace of pain. Giving so much pleasure."One little taste- not enough."_

"_But… I want to feel it for real." She realized it was true. "Can you wait until tonight?"_

* * *

She sat up, eyes flying open. _Oh my God. Was that...? Did I...?_ "What _was_ that?"

* * *

He fell from the chair where he had dozed, tailbone on concrete nowhere near the shock of her question. "What the_ hell_ was_ that?_"

* * *

Time passed. He ached so much he suddenly couldn't sit, couldn't dream of going back to sleep. Even if she'd meet him there.

_I want my girl. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I love her and she's mine and I'm gonna lose her._

_I'm so stupid._

_She can't be for me. I said the words 'cause I had to. She's not really my match._

_Don't lie to yourself. Even she said it. She said it first. _

Her words, her happy near-squeal and her joyous figure launching into his arm replayed in slow motion. "You are the dark. You have the light. Spike, we match! We're the set! We're the- we're kindred! Like, for real!"

_Want my girl._

* * *

Buffy hugged her pillow tightly. _It was just a weird dream. No big. Nope._

_He's gonna give me away. I have to let him go._

_I still have Riley._

_I don't want Riley! Riley would hurt him for saving me and I can't love a monster like that._

_I love my own kind of monster. My sweet, beautiful, bad-outside, okay-inside monster. He holds my darkness for me when I want to put it down. I let him borrow my light. We're good together._

_Why does together have to end?_

Everything hurt. Inside her tight pink walls, the pain was intense. Inside her neck, she throbbed and couldn't swallow. _Want him. Fever. Sick. _

_Cure. _

She felt a sudden blast of blinding rage. It wasn't hers. Or Spike's.

_Dracula's. _

_ He knows he's losing control._

"Suck it, Cape Boy," Buffy told the silence around her.

_To be continued..._


	10. Part X

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: __stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Brokenblackrose89, and the kind guest reviewers. Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon. All the wordy hugs ;)_

Part X

"I need a glamor. Can you teach me? Also, hi. Giles' line is busy, I think he's doing Watcher stuff."

"Buffy?"

"Hm?"

"It's seven thirty."

"I know. Oh! I'm so sorry! Did I wake you? Or Tara?" Buffy now whispered apologetically.

"No, she's in the shower already, but- you're not a morning person. I mean, by default, you're up all night slaying evil."

"Oh, Mom left for the airport at seven. She's going to a friend's showing in Florida. I got up to see her off and then I figured I'd better do the girlfriend thing and check in with Riley and -um- a glamor would be helpful."

"I can try to teach you, or do one for you. Did you talk to Giles?"

"Yes! I mean, last night I did, his line was busy this morning. He told me about the charm and the fruit basket. That's really sweet. And completely weird. The fruit, not the charm."

"But it was thoughtful."

"Mucho thoughtful. Can you come over?"

"Twenty minutes? Oh, wait, I told Xander we'd meet at the Espresso Pump before he went to the site. I'll be there right after. Or- you could come over. We could pop into the ladies' room and have you 'glamorous' in seconds."

"I want to. But- so, I'm about to do a really rotten thing."

Willow blanched. "What?" All sorts of vampiric stuff collided in her mind and just came up with the word "BAD" in flashing letters.

"Ask you talk behind his back- which is totally what split us up before, we thought."

"You don't want Xander to know about the hickey with fangs?"

"That's one thing. Also, the other night when you researched and Riley was there, he told me that Giles had to defend me. And I assumed it might be Anya, 'cause you know, the lack of tact."

"Right. You two sort of mentioned that at lunch yesterday. Only it was more like- not mentioning," Willow pointed out tentatively.

"So, was it Xander or Anya?"

"Was what Xander or Anya?"

"Was it Xander or Anya who said something and Giles had to go into defense mode?"

"Oh no! Riley's the one who lost it and shattered Giles' mom's mirror and - oh. I'm guessing by that really horrified gasp you hadn't heard that part?" Willow bit her lip.

"No! Why?"

"We were joking and he lost it and said we were passing you from vamp to vamp, and Giles said it was okay to be angry at Dracula but not at you- only Riley was kind of angry at you. Then Giles took him aside, and I couldn't hear all of it, but I got the impression he also told Riley that it was okay to be mad at himself, like because he couldn't make this better, or because he didn't stop it in the first place. But all of us were on your side. I think Riley is too, he's just- you know- hating this."

Silence.

"Buffy?"

"Mad? At me? For what?"

"Getting bitten and Dracula suping up your system."

"He gets that it's Dracula, right? Mr. Hollywood of vampires. And I wasn't the only one affected! Xander locked Anya in a closet and told me he was taking me to Dracula in exchange for being made immortal! Xander was willing to get turned! Not that I'm pointing fingers, Dracula has that kind of power! I was willing to get bitten because- because I thought I was getting something I wanted."

"Wanted what?"

She closed her eyes. "Will- being a slayer is hard. And I don't understand it. Like, okay, there's only one of us in the whole world who has these evil-killing mega powers. But why? How? What is the _source _of this power?" _Is it honestly good? Was it some kind of evil? He said I had darkness to rival his own…_ "Dracula said he knew and he could show me. Then I would understand. I wouldn't feel so… desperate."

"Oh, Buffy. I'm sorry. I didn't realize how- I mean, you never wondered before, you just rolled with it."

"After years of rolling with it and living with this power inside you- you get curious." _You get tired. You get weak. You get… dark. Hard. Empty. I can't keep going like this... Focus._

"I knew he would be mad at me. He told me he wasn't. He lied. But I'm lying to him, so I guess it's even. We started out lying to each other, hiding from each other. So did Angel and I. He never told me he was a vampire or that he was supposed to help me, and Parker lied, too. I'm looking for a guy who starts things off with complete and utter honesty."

_"Nice work, Luv."_

_ "Who are you?"_

_ "You'll find out on Saturday."_

_ "What happens on Saturday?"_

_ "I kill you." _

"Spike embraced_ brutal _honesty the first time we met."

"But not a lot after that."

"No, he did, he would be right in your face with stuff. Not with the Initiative thing. I _almost_ understand that. He believed Adam could fix him. He didn't want to be helpless. He wanted to get something that was forced into him out of him. I get that. I have a hold forced onto me by someone who trapped me, just with words and a thrall, not a cage and a chip. I want to get it gone. I'm lying to do it."

"Are you saying Spike is the one who-"

"No! I'm not saying that. I'm just saying, that out of the recent male interactions I've had- and Spike counts because we were engaged- he's the only one who started off a relationship honestly. He said I did good work. And he was going to kill me on Saturday. I don't count the fact that he didn't kill me as lying, because he tried. Give him credit."

"Give him- credit?" Willow asked faintly. She gave the phone a concerned look. "Buffy, are you_ sure_ you're okay?"

"I'm feeling better. Hyper. But better. My internal mocha count is at a twenty instead of a hundred. I'll see you at the Espresso Pump at- when?"

"I told Xander eight. Can you be there that soon?"

"Oh yeah. If I run," Buffy gave herself a wink in the mirror.

"Maybe you should have something decaffeinated?" Willow suggested.

"Maybe," Buffy had to laugh as she hung up.

She raced to her closet. _I'm buying new shirts. Shirts with collars, shirts with full-throat coverage. And scarves. Turtlenecks. This will be a cinch to hide in the winter._

_ Wait. This is probably going to be done in a few days. Maybe weeks. Once it's broken, we don't have to keep biting. _This will fade, she touched her neck._ No new wardrobe required. _

She pulled a high-necked lavender shirt out. It had ruffles around the throat and no sleeves, soft and stretchy, almost sheer.

_I'd have to take this off completely for him to bite me._

_ Not really a problem. _

_ Does it have to be the throat? What about- other places? Places near arteries?_

_ Doesn't need to be near an artery. Soon he won't need to bite at all._

Into capris. Into sandals. Into upbeat ponytail, diamond studs and tiny silver hoops in her ears.

Purse, wallet, housekeys.

_Why shouldn't it be an artery? He should get something out of it. Slayer blood is the best._

_Oh stop. Stop thinking like that! You should not feed-_

_-your partner._

_Partner?_

_Kindred. Other half. _

_It's just the bond. And it's good that it's so strong. Dracula's losing his power over me. He must be pissed. _

_ Spike would _love_ that. Can't wait to tell him._

She bit her lip as she easily trotted to the Espresso Pump. Silly thought.

_Should we have dinner tonight?_

_Should tonight be romantic?_

_I have a boyfriend._

_No, I don't._

_What if it's just the hold running interference, making you think you love Spike?_

_Oh man. Erase, backspace, delete, undo! _

_My brain does not respond to those kind of commands. _

_Spike doesn't love you for real. All the "claiming" stuff, just a necessary-strangely awesome-evil._

_So. I have a boyfriend._

_No, I don't. _

Buffy slowed down once she realized she was outpacing the residential traffic, not a normal sight.

_Just interference in reality._

_No_. Buffy paused as a delivery truck blocked an intersection for a minute.

_Interference in reality is what made me ask him, are you going to help me get better? And he had to think about it._

_Tell him, something happened to me. And he blamed me._

_Need my friends. And he got jealous._

_Find an option. And he ignored it._

_Find a helper. And he'll kill him._

_I _had _a boyfriend._

* * *

"I think I have to break up with Riley."

"Did he use the one that goes 'Aphrodite, Branwen, Isis, Artemis by your- what did you say?" Willow squeezed into the larger of the two stalls in the small restroom.

"I think so. It ended with 'cover', that's all I can remember."

"Back to the other thing. Why?"

"I think I want my darkness to be a different flavor. Less controlling, outwardly sweet, inwardly angrily jealous."

"Buffy, stop. This is not something he's ever had to deal with before. He's only had a few days to adjust to this idea. Couldn't you let him- I don't know, work through it?"

"I could. I'm not sure if I want to."

"But- but couldn't this be Dracula tweaking your emotions and your brain? Confusing you and making you question your feelings?"

"It could." _But it's not. It's Spike. No, it's - _me. "I think I know my own mind about this one, Will."

"I bet you do. Only, if you don't and you tell him you want to break up, and then you're cured and you realize it was a mistake…" she shrugged helplessly. "That's a big thing to fix. You two already had enough things to fix. M-Maybe tell him you need a break for a few days? Not because of him, because of worrying about being confused."

"That's smarter, isn't it?" Buffy bit her lip, mind dividing sharply on this issue.

"I'm not sure about smarter. I just think it has less propensity to lead to irreparable relationship damage."

"Smaller words," Buffy pleaded as she struggled to pull the shirt's high neckline down and expose the wound..

Willow paraphrased, "Less chance of heart go boom."

"See, that I totally understood."

"Buffy- this looks really deep. And not healing."

"It's fine."

"It's swollen."

"I know."

"You have slayer healing."

"He has vampire strength."

"Is he hurting you?"

"No! He's not hurting me at all."

"But-"

Her mind raced. _Private thoughts. Not sharing them. But, best friend. Reassuring her._ "I hate being bitten. But when he does it- I don't even know it's happening. Never hurts. And when I'm with him, I laugh. I relax. I learn stuff. It's only swollen because it's been a couple nights in a row." _And he's so strong, and he digs into me, enjoys me, and I enjoy him, feel him feeding his own hunger when he's feeding mine_. "It'll be all faded by night."_ If I stop playing with it. I need a little stress ball or a rubber band or something to fixate on instead._ "Why are you staring at me?"

"I never heard you talk that way. About anyone. Even Angel. Like… you're just comfortable. Relaxed. I associate a lot of words with Buffy and love, but relaxed ain't one of 'em." Willow gave her friend a brief smile before she shook out her hands and closed her eyes as she called up her power.

Buffy let Willow finish the simple incantation and when her friend sighed in satisfaction she knew it was done. Xander, Anya, and Tara would be halfway through their coffees at this rate. "Sorry this two minute fix is taking so long, Will."

"I'm glad you talk to me. About the spell stuff, and the other stuff.."

They slid out of the restroom. Buffy hesitated, and then asked, "Even with Riley? Not comfy?"

"Oh, with Riley, you sounded super happy." _For a few weeks. Then other stuff happened. Like Buffy's life and Riley's goon squad. _

"And Angel?"

"Drama, sadness, mythic, fated love stuff. I'm not sure what the tone was. It varied. A lot. Not usually good."

"I'm messed up. You're right. I'll just tell Riley we need to put things on hold for a little while. Trial separation?"

"Buffster! Looking forward to getting you a de-engagement gift." Xander handed her a decaf latte. "Sans caffeine, per the wicca's orders. My treat."

"De-engaged?"

"From your Transylvanian Mail Order Groom?"

Tara snorted foam and Willow passed her a napkin. "I - I actually liked that one."

"Xander had a really good idea, that Riley would never let you carry out, but it would totally work," Anya greeted her with a bright smile.

"Ahn!"

"If he _lets_ me, huh?" Buffy tilted her head. "Sounds like we're still dealing with Agent Finn. If he keeps this up, he's about to be dishonorably discharged." Buffy stabbed her drink viciously with a coffee-stirrer.

The four friends exchanged glances.

In no way did it look like Buffy had just staked her coffee, right? Certainly not while thinking about her boyfriend?

"Slightly vicious?" Buffy blushed.

"Tad bit." Xander looked at her curiously.

"Giles told me about your idea. With a little less engagement and little more bribery, it's a good one. Whether Riley 'lets me' or not."

Xander glared at Anya. She rolled her eyes. "What? It's true! He's likely to object! He hates Spike, and Buffy being engaged to someone other than him would be unacceptable in his mind, even if he knows it's not real and it's to help her in a way that he can't."

"I already said there would be no engagement, and Giles said he told you that part of it was out." Buffy drained her cup and looked longingly at the bagel and muffin case. "Muffins? I'm getting a half dozen. That's just for me though, so if you want me to get you anything while I'm up, speak now or get your own." At their stunned glances, she smiled. "Joking. Slayer metabolism has gone through the roof, but I'm not _that _hungry. Seriously, share my muffins, ease my inner turmoil?"

"Surprise me," Willow said. "Oh, but not carrot cake. I can't have vegetables in my breakfast time slot."

The others joined Willow's preference to be surprised and Buffy left the table.

"She just blew past the Spike thing, didn't she?" Xander hissed.

"She said no engagement. That doesn't mean she won't ask him for help. It's a good idea." Willow folded and refolded her napkin on repeat.

Xander stared at her. "Training for the lucrative position as the gal who makes origami swan napkins at fancy restaurants, Will?"

"No. Why? Oh," she said in realization and dropped the creased napkin.

"What's wrong? Did Giles ask you to do the spell?"

"No."

"You have that guilty look like when you-"

"Lemon poppies and chocolate chip. Either way, they should serve these with a side of floss." Buffy returned and sat down a tray. "I call chocolate."

"So… Buffy? What's the plan?"

"Giles asks Spike to help. We don't tell Riley. Riley would probably freak out. In fact, I'm sure that he would, and that would lead to dusty Spike, which I'm against."

"Right, he's helpless, harmless. It would be like kicking a toothless puppy."

"That makes it worse," Buffy muttered as the image of Riley kicking tiny puppies assailed her. "Riley would never do that."

"He totally would!" Anya protested. "Oh. You meant the dogs. No, he wouldn't do that."

"Riley's n-not handling this well, not that it's his fault!" Tara said quickly.

"It's not his fault, but he's totally not helping with the handling. I think I'm … I'm going to ask him to give me a couple weeks off."

Anya's head tilted. "Like he's a job?"

"You have to work at love. But it shouldn't be a job," Tara whispered. "Oh. Oh, no, I-I was thinking in general. N-not about you two."

Buffy smiled sadly. "Yeah, well, I think Riley might have me confused with a job right now, too. I'm Operation Save Buffy. His new mission."

Five people at one table exchanged glances.

_It's not working out. _

The sad smile passed like a torch, spreading to all faces. Willow reached out first, hand on Buffy's as it rested on the table, Tara's joining hers, then Xander's, and at last, Anya's.

"Thanks, guys," Buffy said thickly.

* * *

"Thanks for all your help, Graham. Sorry I don't have any better leads to give you a starting point. We miss you in Sunnydale. It's still jumpin'. You oughta come down for the weekend. Plenty of vamps."

"I can't, Ry. Surgery this weekend, then home for four weeks' post-op leave, then Belize."

Meeting Graham, his new unit, seeing some of his old Initiative buddies, and meeting Graham's new C.O. had been oddly fun. Familiar. Peaceful. Sure, they were talking about facing imminent death and trying to figure out if there were any surveillance points that had a bead on Dracula, but it was more relaxing than being in Sunnydale, the heart of all that is bad- minus one beautiful, breathtaking girl.

And at no time during this blissful overnight stay had Graham mentioned any injury or condition that would need surgery. "Graham, man, what happened? I thought you made it out of the battle with just some taser burns and cracked ribs?"

Graham looked at him in confusion. "All of us have it, Riley. Anyone in Walsh's command. We had prolonged exposure to corticosteroids and God knows what else. You got more than anyone, you even had a bona fide 'chip' in you. All of us have hyperadrenal overload. Severe tachycardia? Racing heart, feel like you could run forever, not aware of pain?"

Riley blinked. "That's crazy talk, I don't have any-"

"Check your pulse lately? Maybe you're not even aware of it. You're around super chick so much, you think a feeling of permanent adrenaline rush is normal."

Riley paused, then put his hand to his neck, feeling the pulse jump. He counted. Easily over 120. He was sitting down, reclining, soda in hand. That should be a quick jog. "I've been worked up."

"That's not all that's worked up. You can't live without adrenal glands man, not unless you want injections and pills for the rest of your life. Plus, the heart. Our hearts can't take it. I'm on suppression meds now, and the surgery to repair the damage is gonna let me live a normal life, the kind where I don't need a wheelchair by the time I'm thirty. I know you're out, but you got this while serving. They should have let you know."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust anyone anymore. I don't trust the government anymore," he corrected himself.

"Trust your heartbeat, Finn. It's not lying. Something has been done to you. We have the best doctors, one's who are greenlighted to move fast. Maybe you should see one before you go."

It wouldn't hurt to check. Maybe with a civilian doctor, though. "Well, I- no. There's a situation, Buffy's involved. I need to tell her what I found."

"You found nothing. We don't know anything about Dracula. Until you came, we thought he was a storybook character. And what situation could Buffy have that she couldn't handle without you? She's a one-man, sorry, one-_woman _unit."

"She needs me."

"Yeah, I get that. She loves you and everything, but if she loves you, she'll let you get better, even if it means trusting someone she hates, like the old Initiative doctors."

_If she loves me, she'll let me get better- even if it means trusting someone she hates._ Riley looked confused, jaw flexing.

"It's Dr. Overheiser. He was an Initiative consultant, but he was reassigned, just like me, Goodman, and Brown. Regular army. He'll be working at Walter Reed before you know it. Get on his list now. Start the meds today. I can talk to my C.O., get you a fast-track clearance to-"

"I can't just leave her."

"You're gonna leave her for a place in Arlington if you don't take care of this. Look, I don't claim to be best friends with the girl, and I know her head might be a little spacey, but her heart is in the right place. She'd want you healed. She's- she's one of the good ones. They put others first."

Hammer blows against his conscience. "Dracula is after her, Graham. I know that sounds like the title of a bad Saturday morning cartoon, but it's the truth. The Slayer would be his ultimate conquest."

"And what are you going to do? Have a heart attack at him? Distract him with adrenal burnout while she kicks his ass and calls you an ambulance?"

Riley threw the punch and found himself flat on his back under the hands of Graham, Brown, and another guy he didn't know. "Calm down, Finn!"

"I don't take orders from you!"

"No, you don't. You're not a soldier anymore. And if you ever want to be one again, you'd better get your system fixed, and get back to active-duty status." Rubbing his jaw with one hand, he pulled Riley up with the other. "Ellis could use a guy like you. He's heading the mission to Belize. Real deal, regular army, saving people, helping the local government, putting down carnage-causing demons, not bringing them back to use like big, talking lab rats."

"Buffy-"

"Would wait for you. Or are you happy in Sunnydale?"

"I'm happy with her! That's worth more to me!" Riley spat. _Only right now, I'm angry. But that's temporary. _

"Well… then get your damned heart fixed so you can use it for longer and keep her in it, you idiot. I'm making the call. Go pack a bag and talk to her. You know I'm right."

"I'm not even showing any symptoms," Riley grumbled. "She needs my help first, this could await a couple weeks."

Graham was tempted to smack his former field leader. "Oh, yeah, 'cause chicks dig guys who have non-functioning hearts."

Riley stormed off, muttering under his breath, "You'd be surprised what turns her on."

* * *

"Spike! This is a- not entirely unwelcome surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Uh… thanking you. For the blood. An' the orders for blood. Yeah," Spike said nonchalantly, pushing his way past a disheveled looking Giles. "Good stuff, too, fresher than I usually get at the butcher's. Guess it would be, collected right as the beasts bleed out. Nice."

The quarter bottle of spirits Giles had imbibed in last night sloshed warningly in his delicate stomach. "You're welcome. It was our way to thank you. You didn't need to come over."

"Yes, I did."

"What's wrong?"

Spike paced. Turned, jabbed a finger in Rupert's face. "What the bloody hell kind of spell was that last night? An' you lied to me! You said it wouldn't affect the internal organs, it was just the skin! She couldn't feel her heart beatin', she could hardly talk, couldn't make a decent fist, couldn't breathe! Well, she didn't_ think_ she could breathe. I thought she was gonna pass out!"

Giles watched him in amusement, alarmed amusement, however. "So you came to berate me for scaring the woman who has faced down more denizens of hell than you've had years on this planet?"

Spike struck a match, inches from some precious knick knack of the Watchers, making him jump and grab for it protectively. "You scared her," he growled.

"I - I didn't know I would! I've never used the spell!"

"She was terrified I was gonna hurt her since she couldn't feel pain and it wouldn't set my chip off. That's not how it works, anyway. Takin' a swing at her would completely registered as plannin' to harm her, and cause me pain whether or not she felt it. Look, I think she's finally trustin' me, and you are not to mess about with that stuff anymore."

Giles regarded the angry vampire coolly. "Are you threatening me?"

"No! I'm- don't you want her to get through this without pain? Or fear?" Spike pled for her.

Giles blinked owlishly. _Am I still drunk? Is this an illusion? His face seems so- tortured on her behalf. The enemy warns her guardian to protect her? I must have coffee. _"Would you like to sit down?"

"No, I'm not stoppin' long. Just couldn't sleep. Been buzzed for hours. I didn't take much! She's just that strong," he said with a touch of reverence.

"You sound very concerned for her."

"Of course I am! We're all 'bound up' now. She called me- she said it back." Spike sat down heavily after all. "She can't put any sort of hold on me, you know. She's just human."

"Mhm." _Or perhaps there's something a bit more in Slayers_.

"But the fact that she said it back means a lot to me. This is a piss-poor situation and she an' I are no sort of friends, so the fact that she did it…" He ran his hands distractedly through his hair. "You gonna laugh at me now? Look at the pathetic vampire, all in knots from playin' nice."

"No. I don't find this funny," Giles stared at him with an unreadable expression. "I'm making coffee. I need it. You can have some if you want."

"I don't think I can take it. I'm 'bout to blow my bloody stack already. I just need to get this done with so I can have some peace again!"

"You're eager for this to be done?"

Spike watched him enter the kitchen. He was out of eyeshot now. He face crumbled before he stiffened it back up to a brutal snarl. "Of course I am!"

"Buffy isn't," Giles called. "Ooof! Spike, honestly!" He turned and reached for the tap only to find a cloud of black leather and wide blue eyes between him and it.

"What'd she say? She doesn't hate it? Is she sad? Did she say anything about me?"

"Oh, God in heaven, no! No, no, you can't!" Giles slammed a mug down hard enough to lose the handle.

"Just tell me she's all right? She tells me she is, but I worry that later… that later she's just put on a brave face and inside she's hurting. Even if she-" _Even if she tells me she wants it, wants me- later, does she loathe herself? Beat herself up? _

_Think this thing we feel is a curse, part of a sick cure for a worse disease?_

"Spike, it's just temporary. But-" he felt surprised at how crestfallen the other being instantly looked, and how moved he felt when seeing that expression. "But Buffy tells me that you are- good to her. You care for her. What's more, she tells me she cares for you. I know right now you feel very close to her. Perhaps when this is done, you'll remain-" he groped for a suitable word. None came. "Involved?"

Spike's face twisted. "She cares for me? She told you that?"

"Yes. Now, mind you, she's under this same sort of emotional link that you feel, everything is very heightened and - where are you going?"

"Waiting for the soddin' coffee, unless you're tossin' me out."

"No, I'm not." _This is bizarre. Utterly bewildering and bizarre. _"Uh- but why?"

"Can't sleep. Not hungry. Bored. Waiting for nine so we can finish this thing. Tonight's the trick, Watcher. Two for one. We've done what Drac's done, just missing one more turn. Then she wins?"

"We hope so."

"We're not gonna end it until she's good and sure it's broken on his end."

"Wise."

"You callin' me wise? That's a turn up for the books, init?"

"It is indeed." Giles hesitated. "I'm about to ask you something. Please don't give me any details."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Don't your sort live for details? Record 'em in Latin an' Ancient Whatsis and bind 'em in your sacred Watchers' Library?"

"This will not be described in detail by me-or by you, unless you'd like a rapid exit into a sunny carpark."

"Fair enough."

"Some act of intimacy? You didn't forget that?"

His finger in her mouth. Her sucking wet, white drops off of it while his other hand stroked a thumb over her swollen, kiss-bruised nipple. Two fingers working inside of her to help her release. Soft, tight grip around him to help him let go. "It's sorted," Spike said in a perfectly flat voice.

"You didn't take advantage of how desperate she is to end this to coerce her into-" Giles stopped. Face like a thundercloud. He'd never seen it before. His gran used to say it often. She'd never met Spike. Lightning fairly crackled across ice white skin and blazing blue eyes. "Silly question?"

"Never. She could snap me in half if I put a foot wrong. I do what she likes me to do." A sneaking, unwanted smile peeped out before he could shove it down. "And I bloody love what she does to me."

Giles decided to make this an Irish coffee. "She seems to feel better each day. Thank you for exercising such care with her. Shocked as I am to voice this- we made a good choice in seeking your help. Maybe you'd remain interested in helping her on a more regular basis?"

"If she'll have me, I'm hers. Yours. Your lots. Where the hell's the coffee, Rupert, are you hand-pickin' the beans?"

"Insufferable," Giles added a generous shot of alcohol to the second mug as well.

* * *

"Suffering from what? Adrenal what?" Buffy perched in Riley's lap in his room. She placed her hand over his chest and frowned. "Riley! Your heart is racing."

"So is yours." He looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry they couldn't find anything. He knows how to keep off the radar."

"Giles is getting help from the Council. It'll be okay. Look, this hold is weakening the longer he stays away. But your heart? Is it getting worse? This stuff she forced into you, it won't just wear off? I mean, it's been months. Why isn't it out of your system?"

"Oh, it is. It's the damage it did to my organs already. Your adrenal glands are two tiny little things on top of your kidneys. And if they don't work right- you die."

Buffy hugged him hard, impulsively. "Don't die. Can't they do something?"

"There's a doctor, but he's ex-Initiative."

Buffy stiffened. "No! No, they could use this as an excuse to knock you out and then- bad things. Very bad, conspiracy theory things could happen to you!"

"Graham's having his surgery this weekend. He's trying to get me to go back there and get the same surgery. I'd have to go start the prep meds right away, get examined by this guy, Overhesier. In other words, turn around and head back in about an hour."

"I'll come with you. I'll watch your back. You know they can't take me."

"I know."_ No one can take her. Look at Finn and his pint-sized protector._

_ I'm a lucky man._

"Let me call Giles and tell him what's going on. Shoot, Xander's still at work. Oh- I have to- argh! I have to- um- go finish something tonight. I could meet you in the morning? They won't start the operation today, will they? I have to patrol. I haven't patrolled in two nights because of the - cleansing ritual. If I'm going out of town I really need to-"

"Stop. I thought you'd never go for this."

"Are you kidding? Of course I'll 'go for this', what choice do I have? I hate them, I don't trust them, but if you do- do you?"

"I trust Graham. His Commanding Officer, Ellis, he's good people. I think I trust them enough."

"Your life or my fear? Your life, every time. I know I should go with you now, but I still have to-"

"I know. The guys. The gang. The vamps." His face shifted.

_One vampire. I can't leave with this thing almost done. Or at least, a lot of the way done. I was going to tell him we needed a break. I can't do that to a guy who might have a heart attack! _"Riley, I have to-"

"Take care of people. I know, sweetie." He kissed her. She kissed back swiftly, without heat and quickly rose from his lap.

"I'll help you pack. Um. How long will you be gone? Wait, where is the surgery? Where do I stay? Giles or Xander would drive me down tomorrow morning. Or Willow and Tara."

"I haven't told them for sure that I'll do it."

"What?" Buffy screeched. "Riley, it's your _heart_! You can't live without it! What are you waiting for?"

"I thought you might need me to help with your problem."

She grimaced. "I can handle my own problems. Mine doesn't require surgery. It requires-" she stopped.

He stood. "Vampires. Getting bit. That's still the only option for you, huh?" His hands curled into fists wihout his consent.

"That we know of. But Giles is working with Council. They might have something for us soon."

"I'm so glad you don't mind waiting. You really don't mind waiting, right?" Riley asked, hands relaxing slightly. He saw her stiffen, her sweet face shift into something beautiful but blank..

"I'll wait," Buffy answered softly.

"That's not what I asked."

"Maybe that's not what you should be asking." Buffy didn't want to do this. Told herself not to.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Let me help you pack."

"No, it wasn't nothing, it was something. You do this to me, you know? You have some big thing, some Slayer thing, and you shut me out so you can deal with it with the 'gang.' And _Giles_!" Rile's voice fairly slithered over the last word, earning an angry, disgusted look from Buffy.

"One, where the hell did that come from? And two- why is Giles' getting extra suspicion from you? He's like my dad!"

"Yeah, he's real dad-like the way you guys call each other in the small hours and talk on the phone late at night while you're in your bed, the way he used to meet you alone after you snuck out of your house, and the way he still rushes over to 'cleanse' you. What kind of magic is this exactly, and why doesn't he tell anyone the details?"

Buffy pivoted slowly, face white with anger, drawn so tight her mouth could barely move. "Take. It. Back."

He had a feeling he couldn't place. Couldn't place before, but he'd felt it. When the steroids stopped the first time. Withdrawal. Angry. So Angry. It was flaring up more often. Feeling tense all the time. _Fight the feeling. It's your system overloaded, toxic levels of adrenaline in your blood, making you do rash things. _

He shook himself, startled and sickened by the vitriol that had come from his mouth. "I'm sorry. I - I'm completely out of line. I'm sorry."

"Is it 'cause he's 'in charge'? The Watcher, the Alpha Male, and you want that spot?" Buffy challenged.

"Buffy-"

"Riley, I think that we both have something attacking our better nature at this moment. Stress. Sickness. Dracula. Initiative. We have a lot in common."

"We do," he rubbed her back as he crossed to her side. Why they belonged together.

"But none of it meshes. You know I want you to get better, and I know you want me to get better. Maybe we should take a few weeks to concentrate on that." _Was that too vague? I _have_ to be vague. I need the break, but I don't want to literally break him! I don't want to start something with him that ends up putting him in the hospital._

"You're right. I'll let you know the plan after I have the initial examination and start the meds. Maybe they can do the surgery in Sunnydale, or maybe I can transfer back to recuperate. If not, you'll visit and I'll be out in a few days."

Buffy nodded, sharing a brief, one-armed hug with him. And waited.

He saw her expectant look. He bent to kiss her, but her head seemed to weave just as he connected. "Be careful," she whispered as his lips brushed lightly against her cheek.

* * *

She kissed him goodbye quickly, but with a lingering hug full of worry and regret. Emotions which were replaced instantly by anger and disbelief once he was gone.

"Do you mind waiting?"

_No, the real question is, do you _care_ that I'm waiting? Do you worry what will happen as I'm waiting? How long would you let me suffer before you tell me it's okay to take care of myself? _

_I shouldn't need his permission to take care of myself!_

_Is everything fine as long as you don't have to think about it? _

_ I can't stop thinking about it! _

She kicked a stop sign. It fell, metal pole cracked in half. "Sorry!" she hissed to the deserted street and hastily picked it up and jammed it back into the ground, the stop sign now much lower to the ground.

"And he made Giles sound creepy!"

She wanted to cry. This wasn't how she wanted to feel. He didn't even get it. And she felt guilty for him not getting it, and guilty for not being there when he was ill and injured, and worried that something conspiracy-theory-ish would happen to him and she'd never see him again, and never know what happened to him.

And in a few hours, Spike would be over to see her and she wouldn't even care.

_Guilt. Have guilt._

_ Where's the guilt about Spike? He-eere guilt, guilt, guilt…_ She called for it in her brain.

Comfort. Strength. Power.

Guilt wasn't even one of the words she associated with seeing Spike while Riley was sick.

_I told him we needed to take a break and focus on our own problems. Spike is part of fixing my problem. So- in a way, this isn't behind his back._

_ No. No matter how much rationalization I throw at this- it still ought to make me feel terrible. But I'm too busy being mad to feel guilty for long. _

She marched off to Giles' flat.

* * *

"Hello, Buffy. I wasn't-"

"I want to punch him, but I can't." Buffy flew past Giles and landed on his couch in a moody ball.

"-expecting you. Do come in," Giles muttered and turned to his charge. "What happened, and which person is the object of your wrath?"

"Two times in a row Riley has made these little dirty comments about you and me. His jealousy is getting out of hand."

Giles put his glasses into his pocket very slowly. "Enlighten me."

"Oh. No, Giles, not like-"

"Please." His glacial tone left no room for argument.

"He got uptight that you were in my bedroom. He got uptight that I call you all hours of the night and that you- you wanted to 'cleanse' me. And that you used to sneak out at night with me."

"If I were not your Watcher, bound by sacred, ancient law, maybe I would see some truth to those things. But he knows better. He knows me! He's seen me! And you, together, nearly a year now! I don't have any children of my own, you're my- you're my family, Buffy. I have literally have no one else left in this world, parents, or grandparents, or wife and children- I gave that up for this path, and it led me to you, and so- I'm satisfied. I'm so proud of all you do, all you've overcome." Giles suddenly picked up a nearby paperweight, a beautiful work of glassblowing inside glass, and slowly, gently put it back down instead of hurling it at the phantom of Finn in his mind. "You've been treated to enough childish anger. But I am beyond angry right now."

Buffy left the couch and stood beside him. She ran her hand over his arm and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, too, Giles. He did apologize instantly. I told Riley- I told him I think we need a break to focus on our own issues. I didn't want to do anything permanent, not while I could be influenced by post-vampire thrall and stuff. And that's not even with the bombshell he dropped on me… "

* * *

Giles was silent when she was done telling him. "Your situations are actually quite similar. Both of you, through your work in preventing evil from winning its ongoing battle, got exposed to something that threatens your life. You are unable to save yourselves without assistance. One cure is medical, scientific. One cure is ancient, primordial, the laws of blood and possession. You want him to get better. He wants you to get better."

"I thought that, too. Which really, really pissed me off because I cared and wanted to like- be encouraging, and he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't see my ex."

"We must consider that he's not himself. Adrenal overload and high levels of chemicals- they may be altering his brain chemistry. He's seemed more volatile. We assumed it was simple jealousy, but it could be something he can't help."

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly.

"And then I want you to remember something, dear. Even when we have something we can't 'help', we have the power to choose how we treat others. Your 'condition' hasn't changed you except to make you very energetic. You're still the same caring person, simply at high speeds."

"And Spike. He has a chip. And a demon."

"Spike?" Giles asked carefully.

"That's stuff he can't help. But he still- he helps me. That's all. Sorry, I'm just bummed about Riley."

"I imagine." _That's actually _not_ what I imagined. I imagined she would cling to him. Or he'd break her heart, she'd be a wreck. Now, she just seems grim and sad. _"Buffy, would you like to stay here while your mother is out of town? I know you have to take care of some business with Spike, but if you want to come by after, I'll make up the couch for you."

"No thanks, Watcher-mine. I'm looking forward to just getting home and crawling into bed. I'll call you before I call it a night, though, okay? It'll be late, I told Spike I wouldn't see him until around nine. Going to patrol as soon as it gets dark, just a quick sweep."

"Well, I shan't wait up then, but I'll keep the phone right by my pillow. Call when things are settled."

"I will. I think I'll go home. Eat chocolate. Mope."

He hated to send her home to an empty house, to go out and do heaven knows what in an uncomfortable, increasingly conflicting situation with Spike, and add in worrying about Finn as well. What would cheer her up? "Buffy," he paused with her at the door, playing a very uncertain hunch, "Spike came to see me. He was worried about you. He told me the spell I gave you went badly- which I already knew from your account last night, but he made a point of telling me that I was never to do such a thing again. He felt- and I'm paraphrasing, that you had enough to deal with without my mucking things up. And he was also worried that you were only suffering along with him, hiding any discomfort or sadness until later. He certainly seems to care for you, Buffy. I think that says a great deal, since as you pointed out, he has several things he can't help, one of them being a demon."

"It's just the connection thingy we have for now." She shrugged, trying to tone down the sparkle in her eyes.

"Yes, I thought that. Until he very nearly combusted with joy when I said, considering how well you two were getting on, that maybe you'd still have some connection once this was all over."

She pecked his cheek impulsively. "You wouldn't think that was a bad idea?"

"Not as things stand between you now, no. I wouldn't." She looked suddenly ten years less careworn, endlessly less tired. Hunch well played. "Have a good night, Buffy." He almost added, "with Spike."

"I'll try."

He closed the door and she trotted down the sidewalk, steps suddenly light. _Have a good night. I'll try. No, I will. Spike will be there. So everything- everything will be fine. _

_To be continued..._


	11. Part XI

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: __stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, squeeface, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Brokenblackrose89, and the kind guest reviewers. I am going to answer the kind reviews, but I figured you'd rather read this new chapter first and my heartfelt thanks second, so here we go. Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon (S.C. Principale). All the wordy hugs ;)_

**Part XI**

He tried to wait. At eight o'clock he was chain smoking outside the big tree in her front yard. If Finn should happen to pop by... He tried to leave. Couldn't.

She tried to settle. Couldn't. She'd had a record-breaking patrol and slipped in the kitchen door. She tried to eat a sandwich but couldn't with the carnival in her stomach back in business. When Spike was around, it felt better. She kept going to the front door and pausing, listening for a sound that she never heard. It was like something was waiting out there, something she needed. Slayer senses aren't usually wrong. She stepped onto the front porch. "Spike?" she breathed into the night air.

"I'm early. Couldn't settle." He was instantly at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her.

"Then come in," she said with a small smile, holding out her hand.

* * *

He knew he should have more reserve. More easy confidence. But as soon as she clicked the lock into place, he grabbed her into his arms and she grabbed him back just as desperately.

"Missed my girl," was all he would say. Everything else hurt. The idea of knowing it would end after tonight, or at least it could. Knowing it would end at all, it hurt.

"I had a really strange day. Oh, and I had a dream. You were -"

"Bora Bora. Duck?" he offered with one quirked eyebrow.

She gasped. Then blushed."How does that happen?"

"I have no idea, Pet. Don't care. Care about seein' you, that's all."

"Mmm, me, too. B-but we can go upstairs if you want. Actually, I'd like to. Oh- but not to- um- just I thought it might be a better place to-"

Spike quelled the nervous babble with a hand on her shoulder. "Take it easy. I know it was a dream. We don't- uh- well, the bit at the end- not that you said-" it was his turn to ramble and try to say things without saying them. She took his hand and gripped it.

"Want anything? I don't think we have blood. What am I saying, no, we definitely don't have blood. Juice? Soda?"

"Sure," he agreed for the sake of playing guest. Then shook his head. "Buffy, I'm not a guest."

"Oh. Yes, you are! You're visiting me, you came to see me."

"You don't have to treat me like- what are you doing?" She was blocking his path to the kitchen suddenly, one arm raised and open.

"I was- sorry. Dumb. You're right. We should just do this and get it over with."

"I didn't say that!"

"Isn't that what you meant?"

"No! I'm- I'm more than a guest. Connected to you. Don't have to stand on ceremony."

"I wasn't. I was being nice to you and treating you like a -friend? Also- I was going to hug you, because I want to and because my day was weird and sad and… whenever I felt really bad, I thought of you. It helped."

Another sudden desperate clinging to each other. "I missed you all day. You were all I bloody thought about," Spike murmured to the top of her hair. "Can't catch a break in my sleep. It's like- I drank you and now you're in my gut, and my veins, my heart, my head. I'm drownin' in my girl." He kissed her forehead, eyes squeezed shut, inhaling. Trying to be stronger than this.

She was glad he wasn't. "I had to think about so much. And all I wanted to do was come find you and be near you. I know it's just this kindred thing, the hold fighting off Dracula's, but it doesn't feel like that." _Feels like I'm in love and I haven't seen you in years, and I know that you're somewhere nearby. If I could just find you, I'd be better._

"It feels so real. Hurts to know- that it's not."

"W-well- what makes it real?" Buffy suddenly wiped at her eyes, looking desperately at him.

"Hm?"

"Dracula did the same thing. I went to him. I listened to him. I was resisting the whole time. I hated it. I hated him. I tried to fight it. And when he was out of town, I felt like I was going insane in a bad way, skin too tight, too hot, buzzed and confused and hyper…" Her head cocked in puzzlement, eyes still on his face. "I don't feel _any_ of that with you."

"Doesn't mean it's real. Even if I'd like it to- I know you're not the type to be 'owned', so I don't want to own you."

"Then don't call it owning. Call it belonging. Then it's like- a set. The one isn't more powerful than the other."

"You're more powerful than me, Slayer, you know that."

"But you're not weaker than me, Spike._ I_ know _that_. We're just different."

"But a set, some happy little voice told me the other night," Spike allowed himself the luxury of running his fingers through her smooth hair. Undid her ponytail with a deft slip of his finger under the band, just petting her for a minute while his ego and his heart and mind carried on a pitched battle. "If it were real, maybe it'd feel just like this. We won't know until we break it. If we still feel the same- missing each other and thinking about each other, knowing that all you want to do to make it better is jus' see each other. Jus' touch…" his hand ran across her cheek and chin, down to her neck and over the lilac colored neck of her blouse.

"If it feels like they have something you've been searching for? When you see them, it's all okay?" Buffy added, letting her own hand wander. Up to his face, thumb around his cheekbones, ending aside his hairline, beside sparkling, too bright blue. "You said- I needed a someone. Who wouldn't break me."

"I think you need that. Strong types get broken enough. Shouldn't need to test the endurance from friendly fire."

She smiled. "Take off your coat? Stay?"

He linked his fingers through hers. "Water, Luv? Then upstairs?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

"I'm going to change," Buffy told him.

"Could leave it off. Seen it before." He winked as she pulled a black shirt with spaghetti straps out of her closet.

"Could. But won't." She stuck her tongue out at him and pulled out another hanger. Pink cami. Lacey. Sexy. _Not Spike's style. My style. He'll deal._

"Can I help?"

"I still know how to change my clothes. Dracula didn't melt my mind _that _much," she laughed.

"It was an excuse," he came up behind her as she was about to disappear through the door. Ran his hands longingly down her arms, then stopped, his voice suddenly hard with an edge of disbelief. "I think you messed me up, Slayer."

"Huh? How?"

He had been completely, thoroughly demonstrative with Drusilla. Dismissive with Harm. Buffy was a whole new category. "Confused me. Made me… clingy."

"I don't think that was me. I think that's a you thing. I witnessed drunken, sobbing, heartbreak Spike."

"Yeah, an' you'll probably see it again in a few weeks."

Buffy grabbed his shoulder with lightning speed. "No. I'm not going to do that. We don't break each other. I … trust you. Which is messed up." She let out a sigh. "This is messy."

"Maybe it doesn't have to be? Oh. No. Bloody Finn."

"He needs surgery."

Spike looked stunned. Then he whooped. "Well done, Luv! You break his arm? Nose? No, surgery wouldn't be needed for-"

"What? No!" She hit his shoulder. "This isn't a good thing! He could die!"

Spike shook his head. "Not seein' the bad. I'd kill him myself if I-" The freezing glare shut his mouth.

"He has toxic levels of something in his system. It's messing up his heart and his adrenal glands. I don't even know what surgery he needs, but they have to get rid of the toxins and repair the damage. He's going to call me with updates as soon as he knows something."

"Oh. Then you'll go be with him? Some secret spy hospital?"

"Yeah. I'll go visit. Not to stay," Buffy said softly, an edge of sadness in her voice. "I know the connection we have is affecting me. I don't know how much. I can't make big decisions while my mind is clouded. But I've been feeling… less and less happy with him. Before you bit me. The things he says and does- they're sweet most of the time, but there are some things that I don't like. And one of them is how he sees me, and that's huge. Because- you know, I'm half of the couple."

"What are you sayin'?"

"I didn't break up with him. But I wanted to. I told him we needed time to focus on our own stuff. Can't make decisions that are permanent while I'm still under some sort of enforced 'attachment' to someone else."

"Don't say that. Enforced. I didn't force- I never-"

"No! No, no you are not forcing. You're _freeing_. The situation is forcing my hand, that's what I should have said."

"Glad I'm one of the good guys in this situation." Horrified expression. Stunned. Bugging eyes. "Fuck, Slayer!"

"Reserved for the good guys," Buffy tried to joke, awkwardly patting him. "It's okay. No one is ever going to think you're all sweet and fluffy good. You're just- sometimes good. Darkness for a good use? I have that, too."

"Don't tell anyone?"

"About you or me?"

"Me!"

"Being on the good guy team gets respect- from the good guys."

He let out a frustrated growl of annoyance. "Rather have respect from the baddies."

"You have that already. You could have some of both."

"Ah. Like you." He relaxed enough to smile slightly.

"You'd think if the bad guys respected me more, they'd leave town or take the school year off, or close business by ten PM or something," Buffy muttered.

"I'll mention it next time I'm at the bar." He winked.

"Thank you. Helpful vamp."

"Yeah? Well. Time for me to do a bit more help. You go change. I'll be a good boy, not peek."

She grinned and slid from her room, to the bathroom, a simple slip in and out of a shirt and she returned. He stood by her vanity table, fingers caressing the assortment of jewelry. "Spike, watch out for -"

"Ow!" he suddenly sucked his finger tip. "Crosses everywhere."

"Oh, careful!" Buffy pushed past him and hastily swept her jewelry into the top drawer. Then she made a hurried scan of her room. She collected stakes, crosses, holy water, and a crossbow and pushed them all into a chest at the foot of her bed. Which was unsettling to her, and to him.

"I didn't realize I was walkin' into such a deathtrap when I said I'd come over."

"I never- I always have something slayer-y around me. I never put it away. Even the other times, I always had-"

"I know. Even when you said you'd down tools- you were packing a stake."

"Well, I'm not now. I'm putting all the slayer-y goodness away for a little bit." _Don't. Dangerous. You're telling him, you shouldn't tell him._

_ Why? He wouldn't hurt you. He's fighting for you, without thinking you can't do it yourself. _

"_You_ are slayer-y. Hell." He grimaced at the butchering of the language. "You are your own best weapon. You want a stake?" He suddenly had a terribly inappropriate image. Several in quick succession. His eyes closed to blot them out, leaving him with a sinful smile on his face. "I'm sure we can find a way to make it useful without being lethal."

"Do I want to know why you just smirked like that?"

"Probably not."

She shivered. _Yes, I probably do. _

He inhaled again. Mingling scents now, arousal added. "Slayer likes my games."

"No games. Just like you," Buffy confessed.

"Then why so tense?"

"Nothing. Not. Okay, a little. When I was with Angel, he was never in my room to do… things. Always had my stakes and crosses hidden, but handy. This is just different."

"I thought you trusted me."

"I do. Still a new thing."

"You can call all the shots," he sat on the edge of her bed, looking up at her with a saucy smile. "Make you feel comfortable when you hold the reins, Baby?"

Did it? Sometimes. Sometimes, just tiring. "I need someone who'll take turns with them. Always being in charge wears your normal side down. Which is probably another reason Riley is miffed. He'd like to date Ms. Normal-with-a-touch-of-Badass-Demon-Fighter. And at the end of the semester, I was Ms. Badass-Demon- Fighter-with-a-touch-of-Normal. School's back in session soon. Vamps come to the Hellmouth as soon as it starts to get dark earlier. Dracula was already here and isn't exactly gone. Ms. Normal has left the building."

"I hate him, you know?"

"I know."

"What you just said makes me hate him more. It's not like you get to pick. You gotta do what needs to be done. You pull out the pieces you need, even if it feels like you yank 'em out of your soul. Seen you do it. Seen you fight Angelus with the last bit of yourself. And sending him to hell- you sent that last bit into the fire with him. I thought you'd probably make it. But I thought you'd turn hard, or would go out soon after. Two years and change later, look at you. Stronger than ever."

"And weaker. Losing my balance," she admitted, suddenly sinking beside him on the bed.

"You're just- not gettin' fed properly. Somethin' has to feed the heart and fill you up. Your little mates and the Watcher, Joyce. All the ties to the world. You have 'em, but it's hard to maintain' em when the load is so heavy." His voice took a grudging tone, "Prob'ly why Soldier Boy is so keen to help. Thinks he'll save you."

"Taking my job doesn't save me. Doing my job doesn't save me."

"I know. You just want someone to help you get your strength back. Give you the pieces."

She shivered suddenly. _Spookily good. Spookily what was needed and he knew it. He got it. Down to the use of the phrase "not getting fed". How? _

_He knows you. Out of all of them, he knows you best. _

He extended his arm slowly. "When I drink you- I get all the power. I know you're not the same." Eyes locked. They turned slowly to face each other. "I can feed you. Is this what you need?"

Head shook slowly, like listening underwater. No.

"Is this what you _want_? Do you find something?"

_Voices last time. Passing out. Don't know why._ "When you're inside me, I can find the things I'm looking for. He tried to show me my true nature. He was only half right. When I tasted his blood, I saw myself running, headlong, into battle, into another fight, another night... I have to find _why_ I'm running and where I end up."

The knife was easily in his hand, perfectly comfortable with the killing tool. Why shouldn't he be, Buffy thought as it passed from pocket to flesh. _He is one._

_I am one._ "Can I do it?" she asked, shocking herself.

He didn't look surprised. He looked pleased.

"No. No, that's wrong," Buffy stammered suddenly when he attempted to press it into her grasp.

"Why?"

"I don't want to cut you or hurt you! That's wrong. That's_ wrong _of me. What's wrong with me?"

"Shhh, hush, not wrong. Look, you needed it and I gave it. Now you know what you need and you want to get it yourself. That's not wrong. It's ownership."

Knife in her hand. She carefully put it down, hands on the sides of his head. "If I owned- I could never hurt someone. Could only… love them."

He sucked in air he didn't need, chin popping down then tightening up, quivering. "Then you do it with love. You kiss it and make it better. I swear, Buffy. It won't hurt from you. Just like my bites don't hurt you, do they, Baby?"

"No. Oh, no, turned out to be so good."

Somehow his arms had gone around her waist, and the knife was pushed back, and they were kissing, tangling. She reached for it and he waited, didn't bother to watch, wasn't scared.

She knew what to do, some kind of instinct? She didn't know how she knew, just figured it out in the moment. One cut, two, quick and clean- his right arm, then hers.

"Slayer-" Should have been watching. His eyes were wide and head bowed fast, over the cut, kissing it better, and his followed suit, faster, more greedily._ Her blood in my mouth, while she's drinking me. Sucking it from me, little lips against me, smelling her scent, one hand in her hair-_

Everything was red and black. She shouldn't moan, didn't love the taste, didn't hate it.

Loved the fullness. Not in her stomach, her brain.

Loved the feel of him moaning against her skin, hungrily pulling, taking her in.

_I'm inside him. Owning him. _

Fangs and fingers and hard, long, parts that she couldn't say half the time- and she was in him. And he knew it. And he liked it.

_I need this one. I need this one because he gets it, gets how to take me and let me take him, and oh, this shouldn't be about sex but it is. _

Just as she was reaching this realization in her own brain, something took over and started leading the lesson, a whispery voice blotting out any words of her own.

_It's primal. _

_Long before. _

_You and he have the same darkness, differently distilled._

_Images of a girl- she recognized her. Sineya. First slayer. And three men. She didn't know them. Something came from the earth where she was chained, and went inside her. When the insubstantial smoke finished invading, she snapped the chains. Then she snapped three heads, back on their axes with hard punches she hadn't been able to throw before._

_Another image, long before, when the world was a thing of clouds and fire- a demon from hell took his victim and fed from it, fed it shared blood back. The soul left and the smoke entered. _

_Same darkness. Differently distilled. _

_They won't claim it. Nor name it. _

_They fear to be associated with it. _

_They do not know that it is simply a power._

_It's how you use it. _

_It how _both_ of you use it._

* * *

Thump. Thump.

Two figures sprawled, falling away from each other, not quite unconscious.

"Buffy?" he sounded blurred, drugged. His eyes wouldn't open fully.

"Whoa." Her voice was equally garbled and heavy, eyes equally unable to focus.

"That's not s'posed to happen."

"Sorry."

"Did you see-"

"I saw."

His brain tried to make words. Makes sense for her. "It's not necessarily true. It's a symbol. That stuff's usually symbolic."

"They forced the essence of the demon in her. So she could fight the demons. Because normal girls aren't as strong as demons. So they made us freaks. They gave us the only power they could summon that had half a chance of winning."

"Yeah, but you're stronger than vampires, Luv. That's _your_ power, not its power. The one doesn't work without the other."

"Maybe."

He came over the top of her now, dragging himself, leaning on one elbow as he looked down at her faraway eyes. "Maybe that bit of demon- maybe he wanted to help. Maybe he wanted to help the girl." She looked at him, confused. "Maybe he was trying to- turn to the light."

_Can demons do that? _She looked at him, his face concerned, hard lines, somehow gentle. _Don't need to ask. _"Why?"

"Maybe he loved her. Wanted her to survive. Thought if he gave her a part of himself, even a taste-" their eyes locked. This was no longer a singular example. "Maybe she'd win and she'd save this world. Maybe he'd come to love it, too. Didn't want it destroyed."

"I don't know about that."

"No. Guess there's no way we could-"

"But I know about you. I know about _this_ slayer. _This _vampire." She sat up slowly, he shifted, helping her. "He helped her because he loved this world. And then he liked the girl. He wanted to help her without taking over for her. Maybe he loved her. Maybe she loved him. Maybe it was just a dumb spell."

He looked down. Too raw, too close. _These_ cuts hurt, all the maybes were blades on the sensitive flesh of his heart and mind.

"Maybe they didn't want it to be. They make their own rules. He said I liked his games," she swallowed, "but what if they were something more?"

"I'd like that," he murmured, leaning on her suddenly, finding her leaning back, propping each other up, twin lines of dried blood on their arms reminding them of just how much they invested in the other, spent in each other.

"I have a rule question."

"Fire away, Luv."

"Biting on the neck is getting problematic with my summer wardrobe."

"Well, I bit you twice. You tasted me twice. We ought to be done." _Do you feel done? I don't. I don't feel whole or complete anymore. I'm worse than when I started. _

"I thought we decided on the overkill plan?"

"Right, so we did. Continue." _Maybe I just need another hit._

"Do vampires have any other biting spots?"

"We can bite anywhere. You want me to do it where it won't show?"

That meant something under clothing. Her cheeks felt hot. "Could it be done? Where would you- where would a good spot be?"

"Inner thigh? High up," he slowly reached for her knee and she didn't stop him as he slid up toward her hip. Her legs parted slightly, but he didn't touch her center, squeezed at the area of softness a few inches from the top of her leg.

"Anywhere else?"

Hands wandered, like a diviner's rod seeking the spring. He paused by her left breast. "Not sure if you'd want me to... My mouth could fit around you properly, fangs would go in. Afraid that'd hurt you a lot, Pet. Don't you have all sorts of ducts and glands and stuff in there?"

"People get nipples pierced."

"Want me to pop one of your little rings in while I'm at it?" he joked. "Saw a few over there." He gestured to the dressing table she'd cleared.

The joke tightened the air somehow. Made it thicker and hard to swallow. Putting a ring there. Silver and blood, him tugging it, holding her by it. Another permanent reminder of him, his hand flicking it, her fingers tugging it as they twined together, making love. His cock twitched. Her pussy throbbed and jumped.

"No," she shook her head, forbidden images shaking free with it. "Not the ring. And I don't want it to hurt, so, no. Because then you'd get hurt, too. You'll find the right spot."

"Don't you want to know beforehand?" he asked, wondering where his tense partner of two nights vintage had gone.

"You'll make it good," she said softly, smiling at him.

"What the hell is happening to us?"

"I don't know. I don't mind it." _Wait. I'm not like that. I have to do the overthinking and the stress. I do worry. I do doubt. I do guilt. _He sank back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, gazing up at her with a smile and lazy eyes, also somehow relaxed. _But not around him. _"You think I'm good, don't you?"

"Nothing in this world is good like you are," he said seriously.

"There was demon in the First Slayer. I - don't have a demon in me. If I were demon-y, you could punch me."

"True."

"I'm not evil."

"Sometimes I think you're a bit evil. The way you talk… why is everything_ something-y_?" A flicker or irritation and petty annoyance flashed through his eyes and ended with a grimace.

"Two reasons. One, that's who I am. Two, they never expect a girl who sounds like she's asking the questions to be the one to solve the problem."

"You're clever."

"From you, that's very high praise."

"You think I'm smart?" He looked pleased.

"About the stuff that matters."

"Like you."

"Like me."

Her hand slid across his chest. He waited until she traced him thoroughly, and then joined in, fingers nudging together. "Came to visit me in my sleep."

"No, you came to me."

"Whatever. We were both there. Weren't we?"

She nodded breathlessly, knowing where this was going. "I think so."

"Last thing you said to me?"

She shivered suddenly, but he pulled her closer. "Can you wait until tonight?" she repeated quietly.

"The answer would have been no. Or barely."

"We… I don't- I know what you mean, but we don't have to do…" Words were failing her, confused emotions replacing confident ones. Had they both interpreted the dream the same way, and was it even a dream, or should it count as a real, yet out of body, meeting?

He wrapped his hand tightly around her. Stilled her. Sat up, hands between them. "Come on. Start us."

"Start us?"

"You an' I fight. Can't give in easy. Can't make it simple. Gotta burn for it a little bit, don't we?"

"That's where the fire is. It can be good… and still burn."

"Harder," he challenged.

She pulled. "Harder."

"Missed you all day."

"Couldn't wait to see you."

"Say it to me."

Something stroked down her spine. _The big cat. The lethal, lazy, loving panther. Purrs in the dark and gets comfy in you. _

_Want him in me._

_Already is. _

"Kindred."

"Kindred. My girl. Belongs to me."

"Belongs to me," she turned the phrase and meant it. "You're in my system."

"I can be in you more. Further. Deeper. Touch you places he's never been, no one's ever been." He smelled the trickle turn into a river, and he licked his lips. Hands pressed into her hips, and one slid around, to the front of her, rested between navel and pubic bone. "You ever felt like you could give them all of you, Luv? Where it's in deep enough you think you're splitting in two, but it's just them putting you back together? Where the dark is resting. Maybe you don't want them to see..."

_I want him to see. I want him to touch._ Shyness evaporated, but doubt lingered. She shook her head. "Not yet."

He licked his lips. "Wanna be in you. So much it hurts. But I don't wanna hurt you. Do you… you don't feel the same way, do you?" _Always more me than her. Heart's too bloody soft. Tried to make it harden- and the damn hardness just buggers off and does it's own thing, completely wrong spot._ He shifted, trying to hide the sudden heartsickness in his eyes.

She tried to lie. Tell him she'd never thought of such things or thought of them with revulsion. "I feel like if I just had you inside… I'd feel beyond amazing. I think you're right. I hold back. I'm afraid to let them see. Not afraid of you, though. Not afraid of letting you in."

"Slayer," he said her name softly, head coming to hers. Breath was warm and waiting against his skin. Eyes were troubled. "But no?"

"But I can't right now. It's not because I don't want to." _It actually feels wrong. Not to be connected to him like that. So intimate. So together._

"I didn't mean to push. Shouldn't have said," he whispered. Hands moved to her face. "Does this mess us up now?"

She climbed into his lap. Straddled. "Nope. It's okay to tell me. Let's just… connect? We seem to make it work."

"That's right. Don't need a game plan. When we work on things, we throw the soddin' rule book away."

* * *

Kissing him. Kissing her. Hands tangling. Until she heard a little growl in his ragged sigh when she drew back for air. She pulled her hair to one side. He slid his fingers into it and held. He kissed her neck and winced at how hot and raised her skin was. He kissed it and traced it with his tongue. "I was a little rough last night?"

"No. I … so I developed a habit. When I get upset, I grab on. Probably should stop."

"I'll give it a night off."

"No! Overkill girl, remember? More the better. Well, more of us, the less of Dracula."

"Lemme find a different place. Or the other side? No, that'd be a bit obvious, too obvious for even Finn to ignore. Surprised he hasn't strip-searched you and- I'm an' idiot, sorry, Luv."

"You're out of line- but I am way surprised, too. Not the strip-search, that he didn't ask me to change the shirt I had on since it had a high neck. I think it's because I told him I would try to wait a week before going with the finding a helpful vampire option. Next week he might be a little more attentive to the wardrobe choices."

He nodded stiffly. A sudden painful, gut-twisting thought attacked him, thought he couldn't stomach. Was she still sleeping with Finn? Giving him parts of her that he had barely explored, parts of her that he longed to be in?

_Had no right to know. Have no right to ask._

_Like hell, she's mine. I can't take this again, knowing someone I love- no! Knowing someone that's close to me turns around and gets close to another bloke. Like Dru all over again. Shouldn't have done this. Too late now. _

"Spike?" she saw something close over in his face, shutter in his eyes. _That's not supposed to happen. I found the guy I don't hide from. He shouldn't hide from me, either. _

"Thinkin'," he said shortly. "Where's an area he won't be likely to see?" he asked tightly.

"Um. Well, anything from here to here ought to be safe." She gestured from cleavage to mid thigh. "I mean, it's summer and swimsuit weather, but I won't be going to the beach right now. I might start swimming and end up in Japan in a couple hours," she joked at her own hyperactive expense.

He smiled, but felt like he had to remind her, "Well, remember, Luv, he might see more than the general public, won't he?"

"Not these days," Buffy informed him, a trace of frost in her voice. Reading confusion in his eyes, she hastily explained, "Oh, sorry, that wasn't at you. No attitude at you, good question."

"Is it 'cause he's ill?"

"No. I don't… I don't want to be with him like that anymore. Right now." She added an additional qualifier that she didn't really feel.

She loved the look of relief on his face, the sudden wash of peace on hard features. "None of my business, I know."

"It is. Right now- we are each other's business."

"Hmm? Is that right?" Peace gave way to confidence, gave way to hunger in two forms.

"Very right." It was her turn to support his head, look down into his eyes. _Such human eyes. The man in there. And the demon in there. _

"Can you still see it in my eyes?" she whispered.

"It?"

"That demon. Did it pass to me somehow?"

He smoothed her hanging hair back again, really studying the green depths, finding his path drawn into the dark hallways of her pupils.

Pounding. Pulsing. Bleeding. Breathing. Hungry. Tired. Strong. "Didn't leave a demon in you, Luv. Only left the strength," he assured her. "That stands out a mile." _And way in the back- hiding- is a woman who's gettin' awfully desperate and tired. Starving. Grieving. Wondering if it's time to ring this curtain down. Cravin' that look of peace. I can't let her have it, not like that. _"Precious?"

"Spike?" She didn't find pet names for him. Lover. Baby. Used sporadically, in the moment. Maybe they'd come more frequently. He deserved them, to know the depths of her affection.

"Don't you ever give up fightin', okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know what ends you."

Her blood was no longer hot and fast. It was frozen and thick.

"That power- it builds and builds, and you use it and wield and fight with it. Day after day. Every day, you wake up, it's the same bloody question that haunts you: Is today the day I die?"

"No, I-"

"Listen to me. I know this lesson, Slayer. Taught it twice before, attempted it too many bloody times to count. You bring death. An' its darkness is around you. Death is on your heels, Baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you."

Sudden, angry, resentful tears. Angry at him. For telling her the truth she never admitted.

"That's why Drac thought he knew you. Thought he could find you ripe for the picking. Because part of you wants it... not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it."

Her hand connected with his face, palm across jaw, pushing him back to the bed, sudden rage on every line of her face, and he simply rested his own hand atop of hers. "How could you not be, just a bit, just a taste? Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret. Not all of it, but part of it. What's your power? It's you. It's demon. It's death."

He paused for her pitched breathing, then spoke under it, not over it, forcing her to quiet down to hear. "But it's also the weapon. It's not all you do. You save with it. You heal with it, you rescue with it, Buffy."

Her hands slid back down, to his chest. They rested there as he continued speaking, slowly placing his hand across her white-knuckles.

"You thought he could teach you to be better. He wouldn't have. He'd have taught you to give in. I'm the one- I'm the one who is gonna tell you the truth. It's not about knowing a better move, a smarter trick, a new technique. Not the punch you didn't throw or the kicks you didn't land. Every Slayer... has a death wish. Even you, Beautiful."

"I don't want to die."

"I know. The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world... your mum, your Watcher, the Scoobies. They all tie you here, but when the hunger's pushin' you, and the emptiness is hittin' you, you wonder if you're just putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later, you're gonna want it." Her eyes slid from his. Far away. Down those dark corridors where she'd sent so many.

"And the second- _the second_\- that happens…" He slapped his hands together millimeters from her eyes, startling her, making her gasp and reconnect with him. "You know I'll be there. To yank you back. To remind you that you're not like the rest. You've got options. You don't just have that little bit of demon left in you, gettin' tired. You got me. One helluva demon on the outside. I'll give you peace. I'll hand out the deaths you can't stomach, the kills you need a break from. Not because I think you can't do it yourself. But because that's how this is supposed to be. So that you don't end- and I don't want to."

Silence. "I have a death wish?"

Sugar coating it would feel better. But it wouldn't work."Yeah. Maybe you don't know it yet. But you do, or you will. Slayers could go on forever, Luv, think about it. They're stronger than anything else. Faster, too. Now, sure there are some things you can't prevent. But so many things- you can. And it's just because- for one second, the tired got to be too much, the peace outweighs the warrior. It hasn't happened to you. Someone keeps pickin' you up, feedin' your spirit. But-"

"It's getting hungrier. Emptier. Nothing was feeding it. Dracula said he could feel my hunger."

"An' I'll feed it, Pet. All right? You're mine. I won't let-" he shook his head, throat suddenly tightened. Couldn't picture her gone. He let out a slow, controlled burst of cold air to steady his voice. "I know it's gonna get on top of you sometimes, the fight and the exhaustion. You're not just a weapon, you're a woman."

"You get so many points right now for realizing that."

"The problem with this 'one in all the world' shit is that there's no bloody person to cover a shift. Your mates do one heck of a job- which is effin' amazin' seein' as how they're a bunch of scared teens an' and old man."

"Spike."

"You want to be all that you need- fine. You are. When you need it. When you want a break, you gotta trust someone to help. Not some bloke who sees it as weakness. Some bloke who knows it's your brains, your heart. The stuff that says 'I'll fight another day.' The stuff that pushes the death wish back to where it belongs- the other end of the stake."

"And you're that bloke?"

"Yes."

Waited for the laughter. The mocking. The pushback.

Didn't arrive.

Serious eyes. Immobile face. "Why?"

"Because I want to be."

"What about when this is over?"

"I don't have to belong to you with some ancient blood rite to be there for you, Buffy. As… whatever you want me to be." _No, no, no, fuck, you_ idiot_! You're gonna get hurt all over again, you're doing it now, and she'll hurt you by rejectin' it and then she'll hurt you by givin' you crumbs and scraps until you're heelin' like a dog and she's still tired because you want more-_

"It's not a fair offer."

He hadn't expected that. At all. Sounded pretty damn handsome to him, as far as offers went.

"What do you get out of it?"

"You stay alive."

"That's it?"

"It's enough."

"Don't you want me, too?"

"Is this a trick? Or a joke?" His eyes narrowed. She shook her head, chin suddenly flexing, lip wobbling so slightly. "Yes, yes, I want you, too, but you might not want that. I don't care. I just want- to help." Words felt alien in his mouth.

"Like that first demon? Because… maybe he loved the girl. He wanted to help her?"

Was it a trap? A lead in to expose his heart and then rip it from him? He always let it shine through, an easy target. Or- he looked at her carefully before answering. Eyes downcast, shoulders tense. Waiting. Barely breathing.

"Would she hurt him for being honest? He doesn't do this to get hurt."

"She promises. No hurt this time," voice so faint she couldn't hear her own words, but he could.

"Yes. Because he loves the girl."

"If she loves him back… she's worried it's because of the bonding thing."

"Pet, that was them. There was no bond. This is us."

"I know that. Same worries apply."

Oh. _Oh. OH. If she loves, she's worried it's because of the- _"Buffy, you don't love Dracula, do you?"

Her head snapped up. "We're not talking about him!"

"Then listen. A bond doesn't mean you love someone. It means you're connected. If you feel- other things- that's maybe a bit of the bond, and the rest of it's on you. Us."

"I'm a coward."

"No! No, Slayer, I am."

"No, you're not. You're brave, you risked everything to say it, and I can't say it because- because that's when you leave," she wiped suddenly overflowing eyes and collapsed on him. "I know it might be at least affected by it, so I don't want to admit it, don't want to hurt you, hurt me. It's too fast, but I don't even care. I found the other piece. The set. And I'm drowning. I'm drowning again and you'll pull me out and -"

"Breathe," he whispered, clutching her close, wishing he could follow his own advice. "Just breathe."

"You breathed for me. And I breathed for you. What we needed."

"That's all I'm offering. To be what you need." Another risk. At least she didn't laugh. "Don't you need a bit of love, Buffy?"

"Yes. And so do you."

He started under her touch, teardrops on her cheeks and then on his as she nuzzled into him. "C-can it stay private? For now? Because I'm a coward sometimes and I can tell you?"

"I'm just as scared. It's alright to be scared. S'posed to be connected, aren't we? They didn't specify just the good bits. All the bits. So..." He pushed them upright. Stared at her, found her eyes, and ignored the anguish that wanted him to keep silent. "So I love you. Tears, fears, fists, dark, light, demon, goddess, goodness. I love that. An' I'll fight for it when you ask me to."

He felt sick. He felt proud. It wasn't a good blend of emotions and he wanted to go drink himself to stupor and then sleep for a week to avoid the anxiety of even a split second before she spoke, to avoid the calm left in the tidal wave crash of his enormous, heart-baring statement.

_Every night, you wonder- is it going to end? Tonight, you could stop wondering. You could wonder if this is how something starts. _"And I- love you. Blue eyes, gold eyes, fangs, smiles, snark, sweetness, demon, darkness, light, friend, teacher, lover. Kindred."

"Kindred."

He gasped in, and his damn eyes leaked out. "Can't breathe," he said stupidly, trying to figure out why he couldn't make words, just gasp idiotically, stunned at the gift she'd given.

"I know that, idiot. I'm supposed to breathe for you, too." She rose to her knees and fit her lips to his, breathing gently out, slipping tongue between his lips.

"Don't stop."

_Loving him? Kissing him? Or stop him from going all the way?_ "Okay," she agreed, deciding it wasn't going to matter anyway.

To be continued...


	12. Part XII

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, and the kind guest reviewers (particularly the one who had a birthday today). Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon (S.C. Principale). All the wordy hugs ;)_

_Author's Note: There is awkward, smutty, loving, mushy stuff. You have been warned. Also, if you are going to get impatient about when our duo finally "go all the way" you will need to wait, because there is something significant involved that I will not spoiler. Just saying, patience is a virtue (that I barely have), but please try to give our guys some slack. Remember, to Buffy, it's been days. To us, it's been months of chapters. _

**Part XII**

Hands under her shirt, slipped up tenderly in the well-lit room. He could see her better now, in light, in colors highlighted by bedside lamps instead of shadow-throwing candles. Beautiful creams and copper, and rose and blushes. Pretty pink bra with lace trim. He paused. "I'm not heart smart, you know? B'lieve I said somethin' to that effect once, about love isn't brains."

"I think you are way smarter than anyone else I've ever met when it comes to love. Especially me." She gave a sudden convulsive shiver. "I'm scared."

"Of me? _Again_?" Spike arched an eyebrow. "This is gettin' a bit old, surely."

"Love hurts me." She gave a small, defensive shrug.

"Ah. Hurts me, too."

"I know. I saw."

"I saw, too." He was good at comforting Dru. He wasn't sure how he did this with her. _But I should know. I should be the bloody expert. What do I do?_

"This is where you say something reassuring," she prompted.

"Do I do the bit where I promise to be gentle?"

"Only if you want me to worry about your mental health. More than I already do," she managed to crack a tiny joke.

"Well, I promise not to hurt. Can't."

Oh, you could. I heal fast, unless it's the inside. Hence… tiredness. Death wish. No one else admits that. Not even me."

"No one else who loves you would admit it. They can't bear it. But they don't realize it - you gotta face it, it's the only way to put it back in its place. Death is your gift. You own it. It doesn't own you."

Not exactly reassuring, Buffy thought. But somehow very reenergizing. "It's not going to get me."

"No," he had to say it. The world without her in it- didn't work anymore.

"But you've got me."

"And you've got me. Think you had me for a long time." He took charge of her hands, grabbing one on either side, tangling them until she was sliding off his shirt, and their hands teased over skin. "But I'd love it if you had me some more. Took me a little deeper."

"Deeper?"

"I've been in your head. In your bloodstream. Aren't I good guest?"

"Imperfectly perfect," she easily admitted. She licked her lips. "Did you see everything I saw in the dream?"

"Not sure. What'd you see?'

"Huge bed? Fancy?"

"Ruddy massive. Saw that. Maybe that bit was symbolic," he winked.

"No, that part would just be accurate." Her hand flicked over his belt buckle and he let out a noise, a sizzling sound through locked jaws. "Hurts?"

"Not exactly. Wants you."

"Then let's make sure he gets me."

He reached around her, undid the bra catches with practiced flicks that left her blushing for a split second, then too busy moaning to care.

"So tight these are." He took each nipple into his mouth in turn, watching the skin wrinkle up around them, almost doubling the height. "That's gotta pinch a bit."

"In a nice way," she laughed.

"You that tight in there? Hurts?" he asked between long, burning suckles that only made the throbbing sensation worse. "I've been aching ever since we started this." _Probably longer. Maybe since the first time I fought with her, saw her move, and wondered- just for a second, what other moves she might have._

"Not sure about - tight- but yes. Hurts."

"I'm not supposed to cause you pain. Better fix it. How do I loosen you up?"

"Not sure about that, either." Her back arched up as his hand slid down. Pressed right between her legs and held still, like he was trying to feel something in particular.

"You're on fire. Boilin'," he sounded awed. "I never- not that I am- not that we-"

"You never what?" Buffy asked with sudden trepidation.

He didn't answer.

"Spike? I'm not- like, I'm not saying I'm Miss Prim and Proper, I'm just not chock full of variety. Yet. So, maybe you could keep this to a- a creative beginner's level? For now?" The fear of not being good enough came back. What did he want to do with her that he'd never done with a century of sex behind him? It had to be something pretty crazy or maybe -

"Dru was my first love. Of the physical variety. Humans were not my bedfellows. So- I never. Made love with one. I think you'll scald me, Precious, in a very good way."

"Oh. Oh. But- hang on. I know I love you. Weird to say out loud." She composed her misfiring speech. "I don't know if I want to- do _that_. Until it's been a little longer. I'm not trying to hurt you! Not trying to play head games. I swear, Spike."

"No, that's clear." He gave her a sweet smile. "You radiate the stuff. Love. All the touches. The fright in your eyes. The way you hunch up your shoulders when you talk about it- like you're fending off a blow, protecting the vital organs. Guarding the heart." He reached out and kneaded one of those tight shoulders gently. "It says that you have it all to give, and someone took it- threw it back at you, and now you're afraid to share it again. You hug it up close. The only reason you're lettin' me in so early is because you know me, through our connection, and you can tell it's safe."

_Safe. Not in the Slayer's vocabulary. Not in a vampire's, either. _"There's still a lot of loving we can do, right?"

"Hours' worth."

* * *

Slid down her pants. Slid down his. Lay side by side, face to face, looking in the light. He preened, she blushed, then smirked when she saw how completely enthralled he was with her.

"Open?" he tapped her thigh.

She swallowed hard and parted slowly, one knee raising. He moved and she froze, holding still.

"Masterpiece. All the layers," he murmured reverently. Came to kneel on the bed between her legs, settling her widened hips on either side, watching her swallow and swallow again as she went on display for his starving eyes.

Pink, tight nub on the top, under a fold of flesh, plump soft outer lips, tight, pink inner ones, and darker shades peeping between. He rubbed her tight torso with both hands, thumbs making a sweeping heart above the tense channel. Stroked around the inner thighs next. Her cheeks. Parting them a little bit to see a shadowed second opening and knowing if he touched it he'd get kicked firmly off the bed.

Moved thumbs inward again, until he connected with the outermost lips. Gently squeezing, exerting pressure outward, to part her. She tried to sit up and he shook his head. "Why you shy? I touched you here. You're beautiful, Slayer."

"No one- there's no- petting. And staring. And silent mediation. What are you doing?"

"Loving you, you silly thing. What's the point of rushing?

"To- to orgasm? I don't know! Everyone else rushes!"

"Well, everyone else is an idiot," he said firmly. "You can have me next. Or you can have me now. Will it make you feel better to be on the other end of the worshipful gaze?"

"W-worshipful?" Her heart gave an unfamiliar flutter. A happy one.

He knew Finn worshipped her. But he worshipped her in the way he wanted. Not the way she needed. Equal parts from the monster and man, for the slayer and the sweetheart.

He prowled up her body, dozens of sharp kisses, little bites, soft nibbles, looking for the place to bite, looking for the places that made her scream in pleasure. When he got to her lips he stopped, laying on top of her, looking into her wide-eyes. Felt his erection pressing into her soft curls and the soft skin of her stomach. "This body is my new favorite temple, Luv."

"And I really, really want you to come in it. Oh! Not like- not like- um- oh, not like right now. And not like come as in- warm stuff spilling out."

"You could have just said orgasm, Luv. You said it five minutes ago."

"My brain isn't working. It's confused by happy yummy feelings and lusty want-something-big-in-me feelings, and then wanting to wait so it'll never hurt us feelings."

He paused. "How big?"

"Spike! Not the point. Well, not the only one."

"I can help you. I want to." He wanted to put himself inside. Fangs, fingers, cock, all of him, in all of her. He knew he might not be wanted - at least not without a completely clear head, so that was out. Fingers and mouth, oh yes, plenty. _But if the girl wants somethin' bigger… _"Want me to put somethin' in you, Baby? It's all right, you know. I can wait my turn. The main thing when you love someone is to make sure they get what they need."

"I love your fingers. That's good."

"Stakes are sharp. An' the splinters. Not good options," he muttered.

"I don't have -sex toys. Wait, are we talking about sex toys?" Buffy gasped. _If we're not talking about sex toys, I'm going to die. How come lately I still think I'm going to die around him, but it's embarrassment related?_

"I was thinkin' more of a substitute. Somethin' roughly the right shape might help. I'll still do the job, Pet. The in and out? Or you can, and I can watch. You wouldn't have to feel guilty about it, Sweetheart, not that you should, but if it's just a little 'helper' doesn't matter if you use it alone- or with company…"

The idea of Spike slowly moving something in and out of her pussy- watching it slide in the place where his cock was supposed to be buried… watching her do that, making her cum by proxy- it shouldn't sound so hot. Or sinfully good. "Guys don't like toys. I mean, I thought they didn't."

"I'd rather do the job the old fashioned way, but I understand waitin' my turn. I also don't mind it if you like 'em." _Feel like I should get to know this. For long term. Not just quick tips, but the lifelong preferences._ He could see this becoming a habit. A beautiful habit.

"I never… I'm not into- well, maybe someday?" she whispered, cheeks going dark crimson. Who knew how long they'd keep doing this? Who knew how long it would be until she felt totally sure nothing was influencing her in any form? Maybe by then she'd want a little "helper".

"Any day you want. For now…"

He sat with her first, as his fingers made their way inside, first one, then two, Gently, and picking up the pace, thumb on her bead. She gasped and moaned, hips instantly seeking him, bearing down.

"Beautiful girl." He watched this time, last time he'd been on her neck, hadn't seen this show. Pink swallowing him. Juice dripping. Spreading down her thighs and into his hand. He laid, head pillowed on one of her thighs, eyes alternating between watching her blissful face with its closed eyes as she moaned and writhed, the other half drawn to the show. She swallowed him. Squeezed him. Bent his fingers and he grunted with exertion to make her let go. "Slayer muscles everywhere," he whispered in awe. He'd never mention it now, but that Faith bitch had been right about the muscles that could squeeze you 'til you popped like warm champagne. And from the tirelessness of her hips, he guessed the "ride you at a gallop" would ring true as well.

He tried a third, but she whimpered and her opening stretched in a near-pain way that he hastened to correct. "Sorry, Pet, sorry, Precious," he quickly whispered and placed a kiss on her curls, smoothing down the tight little slit where he had been burrowing.

They both jumped. So simple. Natural. Kissing a bump or bruise, an accidental push. And he tasted her. The nectar slipping everywhere, from soft golden-brown curls to bottom. His head hovered, waiting for her to open her eyes. "You said you wanted to feel this. For real?"

"Yes. With you. You, too." She gestured down to the length between his hips, where one of his hands was lazily wrapped. "Not just my turn. I went first last time."

"Yeah, but you can have lots, and I-"

"You told me you'd be ready in a minute -sometimes even less," she harkened back to their first encounter, when the reference was a sexual tease, and the reality had been about how fast he would step into the ring with her again, risk getting zapped again.

"That's pretty accurate, yeah."

"So you can have lots, too."

"And you'd be the one giving them to me?"

Buffy reached down and stroked his hair. "I want to. Can I?"

"So sweet, you are," he whispered. "Of course. And now… can I?" His head bowed slightly.

"Or course," she returned with more confidence than she felt. She tried to block out other lovers. Angel hadn't. Parker hadn't. Riley did, but it was not one area they spent extensive time on. He loved to be on top of her, cradling her, looking down at her lovingly. And she loved that, too. Or at least she had loved that once.

_But this is about Spike. I do love him._ She wasn't sure it was entirely romantic love. It was romantic, sexual, and also deeper, like the bond of a lifelong friend that you're so comfortable around- but it had happened so suddenly that she was startled by it at times. Plus, it seemed to war with the other force inside her, leading to queasy, restless feelings.

All worries and uncertainties were replaced quickly by thoughts only of him.

Spike touched her with reverent kisses at first. Not hitting her nub, not going in, or prying apart. Little soft touches of lips all over the outside first. Inhaling her. Sweet, dewey texture, traces of sex and skin, traces of arousal that was ripening and bits that were new._ She's been wet for awhile now, and more is still coming. Getting herself ready for me._ He stroked his cock less languidly, more purposefully, as if he'd be called to fulfill that desire any moment.

A gasping breath and her fingers teasing the back of his hair reminded him that she was waiting for more. He tasted the little pink pearl on top, teased the hood back to expose it all the way. Sucked on it and rolled it once under his tongue and between his teeth to hear her squeal and to gauge how much pressure she liked.

A fair bit, if the five dots of blood in the back of his neck were proof. She apologized breathlessly as she let go of him. He simply laughed, a purring rumble and decided to see what else he could find out. If she liked it slow and neat, vicious and wet.

"I like it all, as long as it's you," Buffy whispered as she seemed to read his thoughts.

"I like the same thing," he smiled and dove in.

Tongue in her, alternating with fingers, hands pressing her down, arm locked around her thigh to keep her still while he showed her that one was nice, but three in a row was better and would let her burn for longer, in a good, good way. Cumming with moans, then shouts, and his demon was out, servicing her with the same kind of loving abandon and she barely blinked when she realized the smooth brow was now ridged and the eyes were a jungle cat's.

"Are you biting me there?" she asked in a lightheaded voice. _Tell him to stop. That'll hurt. _

_No, it won't. It's Spike. That's Spike's vampire face. His demon face. His demon helps me. His demon loves me, too. _

"No, I'd never hurt you. All delicate." The face smoothed back to pale human perfection.

"I don't mind if you bite, if it's a good spot," Buffy heard herself saying easily as her legs trembled with overloaded senses.

"I do. That'd hurt, I reckon. But for the sake of knowin' things…" He slid into his vampiric visage easily and tried gently nibbling around her clit and folds, using more lips than teeth. She gasped and let out a little squeak at the sharp pin-prickling sensation, but no blood rose to the surface. "Remember- not demon owned." He sat up a bit. She looked winded and he could feel her leg muscles and abdominal muscles began to go rigid. Needed a breather.

"I know," she praised him with a lengthy kiss, slowly rolling to her knees to join him and kiss him. _Angel never would have been able to- wait._ Buffy pulled back. Tasting herself all over his lips.

And it wasn't bad. It was nice. Sweet, salty, earthy in a way.

Spike realized it, too. "All right?" he asked, leaving it brief. She nodded, licking her bottom lip before kissing him again. His hand went down. Fingers went in. Came up so wet they caught the glint of light from her bedside lamp. "Taste?"

She liked to surprise him. Her own fingers swept in and out and held up. "Put me in your system?" she whispered.

"Let our circle be unbroken, Lover?" he pulled her to him with a possessive, hungry snarl that she was surprised to find herself echoing, hers a frantic, needy whimper. His finger in her mouth, hers in his, and they sucked greedily.

Reminding them of other things left to do. Back into her flowing channel, less deep this time, less wet this time, but still enough to show her the telltale traces. She opened her mouth eagerly, willingly, but it was his lips that met hers instead of his finger. She could feel the hand down lower and she looked.

Watched him paint a line of her juice on his own cock, his face twitching at the sensation of her warm essence on him.

"Leading me with a trail of breadcrumbs?" she asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Thought maybe it'd help."

"I don't need any arrows to find this destination. It's its own landmark," Buffy complimented him as they shifted, him on his back now.

"Visitors encouraged. Well, only if she has the invite, and you do." He reached up and fondled her neck, loving the way she rolled into his touch.

"Don't impale me or anything. I do the staking around here," she joked to cover a slight case of nerves. What if her limited technique was too basic, too boring?

"I'm already about to pop, just thinking about you in the same room with me, Luv. You don't got anything to live up to, or down to, if that's your worry."

"You always know the right thing to say."

"That's just 'cause I know not to bullshit you." He watched her lick her lips several times, nervously. "Oi. Most powerful woman on Earth? You know how to work your body, you're not just a weapon. You're the instrument. Let me hear you play. Promise you'll have one devoted fan," he coaxed her with a smile and loved it when she didn't put her mouth on him, but hugged herself up close to him. That was affection. Loving. She held him tight, before kissing her way down.

He sighed. Thoroughly… loved. Her kisses were light, then heavier, until they turned into nips and sucks, on his skin and his nipples, working him to the point where his hips rocked up and he felt pre-cum dripping out in a steady stream. That hadn't happened in the past few years, and never like this. He was always quickly dispatched to perform, so to speak. Not with her.

_Savors it. Savors me. _

"I thought this would get more like- blue and white. Like cold, you know? It's pale, but pink and white. And warm." Her hand gently massaged his cock before wrapping around it and pumping as she left suckling bites along the ridges of his hip bones, down the crease of thigh and torso, pushing his leg back to allow her more access.

She cupped his sack and kissed it, nuzzled it, before licking slowly up and down the trail of his pre-cum and the streak of her own.

"God, you're fuckin' fantastic at this. What the hell- how did you- learn to-"

"I never did it like this. I just tried to do what you did. Love every inch. No fear. No pain. Well… maybe a little bit since you like the whole biting thing," she laughed softly at his babbling.

"You can bite me. You can bite me all night, go ahead, just- don't stop touchin' me yet," he pleaded.

"That's a promise." Buffy took a steadying breath and sent her mouth down around him.

His eyes felt like they had misfired. Colors were gone. Everything was black and sparkles. Tight, wet, suction, glorious heat, and the scent of her and the feel of her hair on his thighs and then tossed over onto his hip so he could watch her pushing that perfect mouth down, down, down.

"Holy… Buffy, I'm not gonna last."

"It's all right," she bobbed up, gasping. "I'll give you a minute. I'll even give you five."

* * *

He lasted longer than he would have thought. It was because she was truly quite adept at torture. She would get him to the point where he was halfway sitting, abs crunching, shouting, ready to explode, and then she'd stop. Hold his hands back from pleasuring himself. Sitting near him, letting him see how much she wanted him.

"Pussy's swollen, Luv. B'lieve the proper term is 'engorged'. Know what that means?" His voice was ragged, and he pushed her hand away from his so it was free to grip her thigh.

"Not entirely." _It means I would happily give up the use of an arm if he'd just push that thing inside of me. _

"Full of blood. Clit's erect. Did you know it went stiff, like mine, but smaller? All the hot blood, rushing there, to make you stand up and get attention. More sensitive. See?" Two could play at this game. He licked two fingers and circled her hard, pointing pearl- then flicked it, pushing it hard, just this side of pain, where it would burn and tingle, earning a breathy curse from her as taut muscles trembled.

That time she sucked him viciously and popped him in her mouth, keeping him in as he came, swallowing him while she hooked him with her eyes.

"Inseparable. She in me and me in she," he heard lilting words of old, ancient magic coming out- and didn't know he was the one speaking at first.

She rolled off, pleased with herself and for him, and still… oddly unsatisfied.

"Not right," she whispered, lying beside him. _Well, none of this is, really. Spike and I are literally sharing my bed. Even my pillow. There's vampire cum in me. And slayer cum in him. And on him. And on me. And he still didn't bite me. And my pussy hurts. HURTS_. "Ow."

Spike sat up, concerned instantly. Pain was a no-go for both of them, for multiple reasons. "Hurt your neck? Your throat?"

"Don't touch me yet." She held a warning hand up. "I actually hurt. Like- stabbing, tight pains. Inside."

"I didn't push in that hard, Baby. I'd never try to hurt you there. Never try to hurt you anywhere, not anymore. Do you think -" Well, he didn't know what to think. "Muscle cramp?"

The only time she'd ever felt like this, even remotely, was the incident in Lowell House, when the bed turned into Spooky Sex Land and they were the ghost in the machine. She and Riley had constant, long, hot sex that seemed out of character for both of them. He was more persistent, she was more clingy and desperate for touch. And when they stopped touching, she felt so empty it hurt. "I can't talk about it."

He tilted his head. "Yes, you can." His hand rested on the back of her neck, tilting her to see him clearly, the look of concern he didn't know he could have for anyone, not even Dru, not again. "I'm your… You're my family." Words stuck in his chest, painful and wrong, and wanted and right. But this hadn't been about him from the beginning. He didn't make it about him now. "You're important to me." _You're all I have, however the hell it happened._ "So you can tell me anything, because I'm bound to you. To be here for you."

"Well… then you can tell me anything, too."

"I'm not the one in pain. Let's take care of that first. What's in your head, Luv?"

"Talk to me again about the helper idea?" she whispered, feeling embarrassed by the amount of need she had and then oddly at ease with him knowing it.

* * *

Girl had condoms. Well, one.

"Spike, don't. We are not using that, because that's one fix I'm not ready for. Besides, you don't need them. That much I know about vamps and babies and STDs." Buffy batted his intuitive hand away from the very back of her bedside table's drawer.

"It's to make whatever we use feel better for you, no snags or rough bits," he whispered. This was the secret. This was the helping each other, the do anything for each other. Girl hurt. He fixed. Later, she fixed him.

"You touch my stake and you'll be the one needing it removed from your anatomy."

"That's either very arousin' or frightenin'. Which piece of my anatomy?"

"Spike!" Her eyes were wide, mouth set to permanent shock.

"Must feel good, blokes keep doin' it. I think you'd best not use the pointy end, though."

"Spike, I was kidding. Well, no, I was threatening, but I had no intention of- ever- because you're- not someone I'd threaten..." she trailed off, confused. Parts of her screamed, _no, so no, never in my life _and a quieter, calmer part told her that if it would give her lover, her kindred, her Spike, what felt good, she would do it. Of course. _Because that's what we do._ "I mean, I wouldn't do that unless you want me to. Inside you. Nicely! Not- not threatening," she concluded quietly.

He doubted if he could have felt more amazement without a reserve tank in his brain. "I wasn't asking you to."

"But I would do what helps you feel good. Spike- is that normal?" She gave him a puzzled look. "Like, where you're just willing to try anything-"

"-the other person wants, as long as it doesn't hurt them? It's not normal. You gotta love 'em more that you love yourself, your own ideas. That ain't normal in this selfish world. You know how rare that is?"

"Rare as the Slayer of Slayers trying to save the Slayer from the one and only ungodly annoying Dracula?"

"Well, 'bout that, yeah."

"I don't really think this is necessary, I've been hurt a lot worse before and- what the hell are you doing with that?"

"It's a candle, init? It's even the right color." Spike had rummaged around and found the box of crystals and candles that Giles had given her for meditation and come up with a mid-size cream-colored taper candle.

"Not in-"

"It's a decent length. Sorry, not the width, but-"

"Spike, are you- you're not going to -"

"Make you cum with this inside of your pretty, tight little pussy?"

Her resolve wavered. "I'd rather it was you."

"I'd rather it was me, too." He came back beside her, and she slid automatically against him. "Just tell me if you want to try it, I've got it ready. I'm ready, too. Whichever you need, you got."

Buffy felt herself floating under his kisses, but the pain kept coming back. In a moment, she felt a latex covered hardness glide around her entrance, getting slick with her juice.

"Lights off?"

"For now? I don't want to miss the show."

"I promise we can put them on once I get over my stage fright," she breathed out a tense giggle against his ear.

He hit the bedside light, sinking the room into darkness. She relaxed under him, wrapping her arm around his neck and kissing him.

"Good, Luv?"

"Okay." She closed her eyes and held onto his shoulders, pretending it was him going inside.

She gasped when something room temperature and slender entered her body. She looked up, into his eyes, and saw him looking into hers hopefully, shining so bright even darkness couldn't blot it out. _Like he wants to make this so good for me._ "I'm glad you're mine," she whispered.

"So bloody happy you asked me," he whispered back and gently pushed the first inch or so inside- and pulled back slowly, watching her experimentally widen her hips. He could feel some slight resistance of her walls as he tried to push more in, only to hastily retreat as her iron muscles clamped hungrily and snapped the thin wax. He tossed it off the bed without taking his eyes from her face.

"Oh! Oh my God, I'm a freak," Buffy hissed.

"You're impressive and perfect, and that thing was flimsy. I could take it, Luv, would love those lovin' muscles wrapped around me. This was- my fault. Damn silly idea, trying to help when I - I feel useless that I can't-"

"I didn't say you_ can't_. I said we can't _yet_." She thoughtfully stroked his chest. "But I have an idea. I think it'll make it stop hurting."

* * *

Lights back on. Smiles back in place. "No pain here," Spike moaned with her in agreement. Legs around his waist. Cock in her hand and then moving together, learning each other's touch, on the outside only.

"Still good?" Buffy stroked him, now beyond room temperature, now warm.

"Perfect with you."

Cock against her soaking pussy. Sliding. Rubbing. He wasn't inside, but he could feel the heat, and their hands scissored between them in turns, her slippery palm squeezing him, his fingers busy inside of her. And her request surprised him.

Needed him inside. More than one way for lovers such as them to define "inside."

"Screw the sneaky, we'll find a new place another time," Buffy crashed her shoulder to his jaw and rubbed him hard against her clit. Fangs sank into her scar, lined up perfectly, sinking into holes that no longer wanted to be left vacant, while her frantic hips and hand and his pounding hardness finished the job.

Cum splashed on her, dripping down, finding its way inside her, and the ache lessened even more. Connection, all the ways. Walls relaxed as she screamed out an orgasm that threatened to break his fingers, but he didn't let go, only pushing in deeper, until he felt her unlock, her knees to her chest, feeling a hard, tight cluster of flesh. "Stay, I got you," he commanded and for once, she listened. "All open like this," he leaned his shoulder back against her knees, fingers in and pounding up high, "now I can find the lock for you, Luv. Not the proper key, but it'll do." He joined his mouth with his hand, pleasing her outside and in.

And it did. She felt the "need something in me" pain evaporate on a cloud of hot wetness and shaking muscles. _That was new. That's probably that spot. The one in Cosmo. How do you do things with a guy for months and he can't make it happen, and Spike finds it on the first night we try? _

_Because he gets me. I trust him. It's so messed up and I love it. _

Her breathing wasn't right, he noticed as soon as he could think past the pounding in his head and his cock as it finished releasing. Sobbing? Crying, sobbing? He looked at her in confusion and worry.

Not tears, but close. "Oh, no. Still didn't-"

"I did. You know I did," she panted as she tried to calm down. Tried and failed. "I don't think I ever felt like that. And I never wanted anyone like this. My body - ugh, Dracula said he'd teach me what I was capable of. I thought he was being slimy, but he was right."

"Blasphemy," Spike hushed.

"Not about him teaching me. About learning it was capable. I never thought I could want someone so much it physically hurt inside." _Like an animal. Like the slayer. This primal thing- and I don't think it's bad. It's actually… loving. Yeah. I am that woman, that powerful, loving woman, and that- that wickedly hot vamp with the worried blue eyes is who I choose. _

"The pain stop?"

"It did for now. I'm afraid I'm turning into a nympho."

"That's not true. I ached for you all day. I couldn't sleep, couldn't settle. I think…" he spoke slowly, carefully. "I think the overkill kicked in for us, Pet. The 'harder' bit of our relationship isn't quite satisfied, because we haven't done that last connection. Fought ourselves to a draw maybe, or haven't completed it one of the most basic ways humans and vamps can. Basic, but deepest."

"So if you just stuck that in me, we'd be all zen-state?"

"Us? Zen?" he snorted. "Seems unlikely, Slayer. Just bet the connections wants its final due."

She was quiet. "That's all it is? Just the bond, some words and bites and -"

"No! Oh God, no, this is us. The connection's just pushy about it. Oi, you're in charge of yourself. You resisted Cape Boy, you'll resist this."

"I don't want to resist… I just want to wait." _No, I don't. I really, really, really do not._

"That's decent of you. To do for Finn. I can wait. Even if we never," Spike suddenly felt like his voice box swelled and it was blocking his throat, "I'm still happy. Still love you."

She mewled and launched on top of him again. "I don't want to break this," Buffy suddenly confessed. It was safe to tell him. She had done the most awkward, most intimate, most pleasurable, most horrifying things- with him. He could keep a secret. He was… family, in a way that no one else would ever be. "Not break it with you."

"I do," Spike's confession was just as quick and unexpected.

She drew back with a startled, anguished gasp.

"No, Luv, listen. Then you'll know. You'll have all of your own free-will, no questions asked, no one will ever say- I was just a leftover party favor from some curse you had to break. If I let you- no, if _we_ let each other go one day, I hope you choose me right back up the next."

Choosing him. The words she'd said herself, he spoke them back moments later. Friends would question. _Mom would flip. Giles- Giles might actually get it. Riley would murder Spike. That's the only word for it. Murder. _She'd have to wait until he was gone for awhile.

_And you're already looking forward to him being gone. That should tell you something. Listen to yourself. _

"I want that, too. But Riley needs to be gone, Spike. Before that, or he'll come after you, just like you said. And- I don't know how long we want to leave this in place… how long before Dracula gives up and goes to bother another potential fiancee?"

Spike looked at her. The ultimate in sweetness and strength, and sexual passion that had been hidden, kept private, not shared about. That was a quality that he admired. The most powerful girl, fights in light or in the dark, never says die- has died, just gets back up. "If it were me… Probably dust first. But I don't think he- I think he wanted you for obvious reasons, Luv, but I don't think he loved you. I think he only loves himself and his power. So, maybe a few years. Maybe eternity. There's only going to be one way to make sure he gets gone and stays gone."

"I have to kill him."

"Yes."

"So Riley was right. He told me to kill him, that was the real way to break this-"

"Now hold on. He suggested you trying to dust him while he still had a hold on you. That's like fighting blind, fighting drugged."

"I've done that. It's not fun."

"You won. You almost beat him, but he's not ordinary. You gotta at least level the field a bit. Good soldier ought to know that."

Buffy paused, hand stroking down his chest. "I don't think he's the good soldier I thought. Good man. Maybe, yeah. Good for me? Good for this place? No."

Spike rested his hand on the back of her head as it came to rest on his pectoral. "Don't, Slayer." Too late. She was crying. "Aw, Pet… Why?"

"Because I'm stupid and weak sometimes. Because I do the dangerous things to save lives and I try to take zero risks with my heart since it got so royally smashed the first time I ever fell in love. And Riley was my 'safe' guy and he's really not that safe. And you're the dangerous guy and I'd rather have you and you can get hurt, too. And that's a big risk. I don't like that."

His lips were pressed thin. It prevented him from speaking, from begging.

"But I'll take it, if you take it with me," she told his chest, looking down, curled tight.

"Absolutely take it with you, any risk they throw," he vowed. Slid his fingers through hers. Locked them around hers, felt her do the same to him.

It was early for night folks like them, but they didn't move for a long time. Just staring at the joined hands and wondering if that was just another symbol, something doomed to separate and fade, in spite of all the promises.

_To be continued..._


	13. Part XIII

**Kindred**

**By Sweetprincipale**

Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, and the kind guest reviewers (particularly the one who had a birthday today). Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon (S.C. Principale. The New and Improved CrossRealms:Shattered just came out in Kindle and paperback). All the wordy hugs ;)

Author's Note: There is awkward, smutty, loving, mushy stuff. You have been warned. Also, if you are going to get impatient about when our duo finally "go all the way" you will need to wait, because there is something significant involved that I will not spoiler. Just saying, patience is a virtue (that I barely have), but please try to give our guys some slack. Remember, to Buffy, it's been days. To us, it's been months of chapters.

**Part XIII**

"Wanna go out?" Spike whispered in a little bit. "Dust a few?"

"Yes. Oooh, but I just feel like regular anxious for a patrol, not like I will die if I stop moving. This is definitely good. Oh, and I promised I'd call Giles! I should call my mom! Wait, it's earlier there, she's probably still at the showing."

He smiled, watching her move easily next to him, reach for the phone, lay back beside him, tucking the sheet around her as she dialed. Then he looked startled. _Wait, she's calling the Watcher while I'm here? Naked in her bed beside her? Where she is also completely, gloriously naked… _His hands ached to go wandering. He felt like that might be a bit of a risk to his self-preservation.

Buffy seemed to have second thoughts as well, as if Giles and his innate Watcherly abilities would somehow know her phone call was being completed in the nude with a sex-god beside her, though they hadn't quite had "sex" as far as the practical definition would go. But they had certainly made love. Some couples didn't have the standard "equipment" or had lost ability due to injury, but when they bonded and pleasured and loved- she presumed they called it sex. _ Hm. Maybe that was sex, but I'd still call it making love. Because I love him._

_And I _want_ him. _ "Cover up, I can't think if you're all huge and pointy at me," Buffy hissed.

He smirked and rocked his hips pointedly in her direction, stiffness obvious. Even though he complied and tugged the sheet up- it did absolutely nothing to hide the "huge and pointy" object.

"Buffy?" Giles sounded puzzled.

"Oh! Hi! I think it's working! Spike and I- it was good. Like, better. I think we're getting better."

"Better at creating this connection that will break Dracula's hold, or the hold itself is lessening?"

"Both!" Buffy sounded gleeful as she realized it was true. "I don't feel 100%. But I don't feel… like I'm drugged. When Dracula had me under a thrall, I felt like I was moving through quicksand, going in slow motion, struggling. When he left, I felt like I was on speed, hyper, twitchy and itchy."

"Perhaps the hold has to work harder the farther it is?" Giles hazarded. "It can't influence you directly, but can irritate your physical self, make your body work harder to rid itself of foreign influences."

"Either way, right now, I still feel better. Clear headed and only a little bit restless."

"Wonderful! Well, I urge you not to do anything rash. I know you can't wait for Spike to release you- what was that?"

She whimpered, he snarled.

Giles cocked his head. "Is Spike at your house?"

"Yeah, Mom's out of town, we thought it'd be nice to have some privacy. Locked doors."

"Oh, Buffy, is that really…" Giles hesitated.

"Riley could burst into Spike's crypt at any time. Not comfortable. Can you de-invite a human?"

Spike's eyes went wide and he dropped the framed picture of Buffy, Willow, and Joyce that he'd idly picked up off the little table by his side of the bed. _The good girl asking to de-invite the Soldier Boy from the demon's lair? World's on its head._

"Spike! Be careful with that, that's from last Christmas!" Buffy chided in a tone of voice that Giles found familiar.

_Affectionately scolding. The engagement spell. Willow!_

_ No. Wait. She was adamant about that. It hadn't been a spell of betrothal anyway, but a spell that had gone wrong, and Willow's magic is improving constantly, especially with a partner like Tara to assist her and anchor her. _"No, I- uh, don't believe we can do that. I'm not sure. Although, Willow and Tara had the ingredients for the protective charm they're making him. Not that they _know_ it's him."

"Making me what?" Spike overheard bits of the conversation. Rather, he could hear the conversation with his advanced senses, but he was only focusing on bits of it.

"Willow and Tara are making a protective charm for the vampire helping me. They don't know it's you. Actually, they probably_ do_ think it's you, but they won't tell."

"Like hell! Red's too sweet, you can smell sincerity in her- and power. Oh, I don't know," he sounded suddenly frustrated. He'd love to show the world the woman who loved him, he'd always shown off his lady. But the previous owner of his heart hadn't come with an insecure, vamp-hating git looking for one good excuse to stake him. He raked a hand through his hair and settled deeper into the bed with a moody frown. "If anyone ever tried to hurt her bird, you'd get somethin' that'd make me look like a choirboy. But lyin' for my sake to Finn? Might as well clear some space on the mantle for my remains, Luv. Think Watcher'd spread my ashes back in Blighty next time he's home for a visit?"

"You are not going to die, I need you, and you are too stubborn, anyway. Willow can totally lie if it's for a good cause, and believe or not, this is good." Momentarily lost in the conflicting emotions of fear and love, she forgot her Watcher was still listening, she snuggled closer to him and murmured in a playfully seductive voice, "Very, _very_ good."

Giles cleared his throat forcefully, hoping his voice didn't belay any panic. "Stop! Stop, it seems things are in order. You're well. Riley's out of town and therefore I'm sure Spike is able to safely return to his crypt. No one say any words of release until-"

"About that." Spike took the phone from Buffy, ignoring the alarm in her eyes. He rolled his. He was no fool. Except in love. So he supposed she had the right to worry. He winked and shook his head, easing her fear. "Slayer has to kill the bastard."

"Riley?"

"No! Although, I wouldn't mind…"

"Spike!" Buffy elbowed him.

"Drac. Look, I can break the hold, but he might be put out, don't you think? He's weakened now, but won't always be. Slayer raised a good point tonight. She asked how long before he'd move onto another target. If she were my girl- I'd never let her go. But he doesn't love her. Just wants her, probably wants her badly. She is the best and she's the slayer. She'd be his bloody crowning glory." He stopped speaking. Stared at her. The way she looked at him... Found out stilled hearts can still leap. "I know she's mine," he breathed so softly only she could hear, making her flush and look away, slow smile spreading over her face.

"So what do you suggest?"

"Get the hold broken, and he'll get shirty about it. Want his pride to be assuaged and all that ruffled shirt garbage. Probably come back to take another stab at getting her to be his, or turn her out of spite, kill her, even." He forced himself to sound cold, clinical. Inside, the words were lashes across his heart.

"Riley said we had to kill him," Buffy whispered.

"Riley's looking at this from one viewpoint, and that particular view is only useful with militaries observing the rules of war. This is anything but. We don't even know how to kill him in the permanent sense of the word! Some say it's three times, some say one of the ways must not be staking, some say a spell must be used, some say it can only be successful if he's in his own homeland…" Giles raked his hands through his hair, tossing his glasses aside angrily.

"It's not impossible. Spike's going to help us. We're going to find a way. But first, the hold has to break. That was Riley's big oops. He thought I could kill him while under his spell. I did a pretty good job, made a good start, but it was hard, Giles. I don't think I can do this when I'm weakened by him. First, break the hold, then make sure he's dusty so it never gets put back in place."

"This is insurmountable, it's- it's been over 500 years since he was-"

"Then let's make sure he doesn't make it to 600," Buffy said firmly. "I can do this. Death is my gift. I am the weapon. I am the Slayer, made to put him down."

Spike lunged for her suddenly, growling and kissing her throat and shoulders. "My girl's so bloody powerful. All that strength…"

"Spike! Wait!" Buffy's breathless voice was torn between amusement and annoyance.

Giles smiled. He'd never heard her sound like that, so comfortably loved. And then frowned. _Oh no. Oh dear. _

"Um. W-we're gonna go do a sweep," Buffy said, edge of something behind the breathlessness in her voice.

Giles wasn't a fool. He tried to ignore and repress a lot of things about his young charge, but he couldn't deny the sound that indicated desire. "Buffy?" he said seriously.

"Yes?" her tone changed as well. She sat up straight, and Spike sat behind her, face now grave.

"Please remember something?"

"Anything. What?"

"You have so many people that love you. Don't get hurt seeking love that - that may not be … reliable."

"I promise." Buffy gently hung up the phone and turned to face Spike, who looked like he was steeling himself for something painful.

"I heard." Spike moved back from her.

"Well… we can put distance between us. Or we can prove that we're reliable, that we don't change, even if the hold breaks or gets removed."

"Second option." Spike rose at once and pulled on his clothes. "Patrol?"

"Sure." She moved gingerly, limbs still a little rubbery from the bout of orgasms he'd given her, feeling tender from the hard thrusts of his fingers.

"Then?"

"I don't know." She pulled her bra and underwear on. "I don't… tell guys I love them. It hurts. I shouldn't have told you, because like I said… painful."

"The only part that hurts is when they leave. I won't go." Slid on the belt, shoulders tight, back turned.

"Come home with me again?"

All the pain that he expected buggered off, tension in his face replaced with simple delight. _She means it._

"Lemme stop and get some blood first?"

"Okay." Her smile was restored. The aching in between her hips was restored, too. "You know, I said I wasn't hyped up anymore, but I'm still not tired. Nope. Not at all."

"Baby's up for seconds? Thirds?"

"Fourths, fifths, who's counting?" she teased, eyes regaining their sparkle.

"That's my girl."

* * *

"That thing was hideous! What was that?"

"Putrification Spawn. You're lucky it wasn't full grown!" Spike shook slime from his hands before tossing his coat out on the porch rail. "Gimme your jacket."

"It's in my hair! Oh my God, my eyes! Am I going to go blind?" Buffy spluttered and wiped a viscous-coated arm across her eyes and back through her drenched ponytail. _So not working. This is like slime squared._

"No, but you'll get sores if you don't get it off you. Let's go, hustle in, shower, soap, lighter fluid."

"Lighter fluid?" She unlocked the front door and pulled it shut behind them.

"Covers the stench."

"I have candles for that."

"I prefer them like this, as opposed to the other way." He winked.

"We will never speak of that."

"A pale substitute, hey, Luv?"

"Yeah, I think I just prefer something pale and authentic."

He chuckled and she chuckled back, leaning against each other, thoroughly horrific looking and smelling worse. "You have some seriously strong soap, Luv?"

"I have this plumeria stuff that I swear smells like my grandmother's entire closet in a tiny bottle. I never use it."

"Let's use it."

"Okay. Uh- together?" Buffy realized that he was stripping off as she was.

"Unless you'd like to have to fumigate your dear mum's house…"

"Come on. One essence of old lady's potpourri scrub down comin' up." _What _is _this? When you laugh at all the gross stuff and you're relaxed and you're horny and you're happy and you don't care that you almost got your arm bitten off by a slimy thing the size of a Buick? _

"You got a washer? And a gallon of bleach?"

"My nose is melting, screw the laundry."

"I'll do it. I don't have to breathe or inhale, remember? Point me at it, meet you upstairs?" He took the pile of clothes with a wince and followed Buffy's directions to the basement, shoving the stuff in the washer, pouring in triple the dose of washing powder and praying to any deities who might take a vamp's call that he wouldn't destroy Joyce's appliances. _Not a good way to get the mum of your girl to like you._

_The mum… of your girl… What in the world?_

_What the hell is this? Even with Dru- it was never like this. Companionable, the fightin' the near-shaggin', the laughter, the jabs. Smilin' when you're covered with the equivalent of shit in sneeze form. _

_No, I don't care. Not even a bond could do this. This is _real._ Oh, shit, why's it gotta be real?_

_Why'm I so happy about it?_

* * *

"I'm coming in."

"You're supposed to knock!

"I've already been invited." Spike slid into the shower and inhaled the highly floral steam. "Hell, you're right about that, like someone's gran's parlor on steroids."

"But so much better than Mr. Stinky and Oozy."

"Amen to that." Spike took the pink loofah puff whatsits she offered him. "Sponges have gotten awfully fancy since my day," he muttered, puzzled.

"You want a plain, boring washcloth? I have one."

"I'm good."

"Are you?" Buffy leaned against the wall and watched the vampire scrub himself clean with her personal bath puff, and wondered why the heck they were there together. _No soul. Chip. Chip is metal. Machine. Removable. Insertable. Am I only in love with the modified version of this guy?_

"What's up, Pet?"

"If you got the chip out tomorrow, what would happen to me?"

"Well… reckon the biting thing'd happen a shade quicker, but not much. I don't want you to hurt, of course. So we just wouldn't have to worry about my head, but I'd still worry about you. No fear there, Luv. I wouldn't stop takin' care of my girl."

She nodded. Came up to his smooth, ivory back, and sluiced it down. Laid her head against it as her arms went around his waist. "And what else?"

"Hm? Oh, I suppose we'd celebrate. Although," he turned and faced her, "you don't think it's much of a celebration?"

"It depends. Angel had no chip. He didn't bite people. He had a soul. But you don't have a soul. And you love me. You care about me."

"Yeah. So. Lemme ask you. If I got it out tomorrow, what'd you do? Stake me? Dangerous beast, me. A killer."

"Killer is what they call you when you end lives. Bad or good. I killed something tonight. You were with me. One weapon and another. We kill."

"We protect."

"You've got light in there, but -"

"You wanna know if I would use it."

"Yes. Just 'cause… well, I really hate when my boyfriends go evil. And you're already evil, so I was hoping I could avoid that step."

"You called me boyfriend."

"No! Well, as an example. You're more. You're kindred." She bit her lip, eyes wide, unwittingly seducing with their glints in the steam. "Never had that before, don't care what the Caped Wonder says."

"I'll use my weapon the way you use yours. Can you give me that?"

"What would you drink?"

"Blood."

She smacked his arm, and he grappled with her, pressing her back in the steamy shower, feeling her hot and wet against him, all smooth, slippery skin. He growled low and playful.

"I didn't hear an answer, fang boy."

"Oh, petty insults now, Luv?"

She looked up at him, playfulness cracking. It'll hurt. If you go away, change, she thought.

He stopped the rough grip on her arms and answered. "Donated. Butchers. Hospital. Slayer's. If she'll have me." She nodded, eyes wide, silent. "All right. An' what about you? Said we were even. What if I wasn't de-fanged anymore. What then?"

"It's all about how you use them from now on. I kind of like what you do with them. But if you_ ever _tell Riley-"

"You don't like bein' bit, you don't like vamps. You like me and you like that I give you pleasure. An' love. And that's between us."

"Good. Very good answers. Smart guy." Buffy pushed herself to tiptoes and kissed him. He kissed her back.

"Wanna play?" Spike asked in a voice that had gone raspy with desire. The reassurance and the heat, the wet silk of her skin, plus a nice, messy battle about thirty minutes ago, tanked up on aphrodisiac blood… Mmm.

"Play what?" Buffy tiptoed her fingers along his arm and up to his neck- then scraped one fingernail slowly down, removing a thin layer of skin, making white on white if one could see in this dim light.

"You name the game."

Sounded so tempting. Except she didn't know any games. Her head dipped. "Sorry. I actually don't know any games. Angel- not game playing. Riley- also not very playful." _Sweet. Loving. Boring. How come every time I thought he was boring, I ignored it? Was it because he could kill demons? Giles can kill demons, and I think of him as boring all the time! I am a very messed up person. I think maybe Mom's denial is hereditary. _

"Just an expression. We can play things we make up, or not. I just meant you tell me what you'd like to do. I know what I'd like to do, but it's worth waiting for. Don't look sad, Baby. You know you're gifted? A natural?"

"You always say the right thing. That's either going to make me very happy or get very annoying."

"Let's hope it's the first one," Spike laughed. "I think we're clean enough. Get out?"

"Hmm. No. I think I thought of a game," Buffy grabbed a bottle of her shower gel, which smelt like honey and vanilla, not a field's worth of dried flowers. "Human Scrubby? Or in my case, Vamp Scrubby?"

His eyes sparked. "Oh, clever Slayer. My girl's a genius. How do we play?"

"You have to get the other person extra squeaky clean, but you can't use anything but yourself and the suds you make to do it. I'm tempted to say no hands, but I love your hands, and there are definitely…" she dotted gel over them both with slow eroticism that she hadn't known she possessed, "hard to reach places where fingers are useful."

_God damn, I love this woman_. "You go first?"

"Okay," she wound her arms around his neck with a smile, loving how it was returned. "It's a good thing you're dirty. I'm gonna have a lot to do."

"Fuck, Buffy…" He gasped as she squirmed down him, breasts to chest, then thighs, cock in between. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"You were willing to help. Helping is a very good thing. You should remember that." She pressed her sudsy cleavage around him, sandwiching his hardness in between as she looked up at him with newfound confidence, a sinful smile on her pink lips.

His eyes rolled back and the lids closed as his fingers tenderly started massaging her scalp, neck, and shoulders. "If this is what a helpful fellow gets, Slayer, you have my help forever."

* * *

_"Spike? What's going on?"_

"_Dreamin'?"_

"_I'm asleep."_

_ "I know, I think I am, too. Must be."_

_ "Fell asleep next to each other. You're not a blanket hog. I like that."_

_ He chuckled. "Room temperature. Easy to have around. An' you're lovely and warm. Perfect for me. Why do you think we can't stop seein' each other when we sleep?"_

_ "You said something. Me in thee or something?"_

_ "Well, you and I have created one damnably strong link pretty sharpish. Your blood. My blood. Kindred. Other intimate little fluids."_

_ "Do you think -"_

_ "Do you think this young one can take what is mine?"_

_ Buffy and Spike fell silent as third, unwelcome voice interjected into their conversation. _

_ "I wasn't yours," Buffy informed it coldly._

_ The voice now attached to a body, an outline, shadowy with his dark flowing hair and grayed out skin. Intense blue eyes were ringed by white, pallid skin, the only color in the being invading their shared consciousness. "You still are bound to me- by a thread. And don't think that I will let you go. I like the fight in you. When you at last submit- it will be so much sweeter. And look how easily you gave your heart to him- such a warrior's heart and he's so weak."_

"_No, he's not!"_

"_You don't even give yourself fully to him. Your heart still belongs to the human. Don't you know you're more than that? You want to play at normal, Huntress. Why? You and I were meant to shine, to rule. I offer you more than merely a bridal bed. I offer you a crown. A kingdom. You will be beyond my wife, you will be my queen."_

_Buffy looked at him with bored eyes. "Are you done? This is very melodramatic. Besides, you're doing this all wrong. You just said I wanted to be normal, so why the hell would I want to be the queen of the undead? That's as far off the end of the normal spectrum as you can get! And you live in Transylvania or someplace rustic and castlesque, right? I'm in college! I have a social life! How would we get together with my friends? I bet flying commercial is a pain in the ass when you're limited to night flights. Spike, back me up?"_

_Spike smiled and drawled, "Flyin' would be a bitch, Luv. Plus, if you travel with Spooky, here, no chance in hell you can go the quick lane with carry on. He's gotta have his whole ruddy coffin and box o' homeland or he's a cranky little poof in the evening."_

_Dracula growled, a cat-like sound that changed to a wolf's enraged, echoing howl._

* * *

Buffy woke with a start, clutching her head. The howl reverberated in her ears. The nagging pain turned unbearable and sharp, like needles piercing the back of her eyes. She tried to stand, but slid, faltering and stumbling as her hand couldn't find purchase on the wall. "Oh my God, make it stop," she managed to say as she fell to her knees.

"The hold is still there, dammit!" Spike rolled from the bed to the ground beside her. She doubled up, head to knees, eyes squinched tight. "It'll pass. It'll pass."

But it wasn't passing. It almost seemed to get louder. From Spike's position of worry over her, she knew he couldn't hear it, wasn't affected by it now that they were awake. She gave Spike a silent, helpless look, and he saw blood trickling from one nostril. Her eyes closed and then opened, and he realized with horror that they were two different sizes.

_Break it._ He could almost hear the words. Drac had no hold on him. It wasn't the invader's voice, but something silently waiting inside himself was now whispering warnings, _Break it or she dies. Exploding, bleeding from the inside out._

The form convulsed next to him and he pulled her close, suddenly unsure. "It's a trick, it has to be a trick."

Buffy suddenly rolled to her side, still in the fetal position, and ran her hand pointedly over his forehead, and then his lips, feebly lifting her head enough to expose her neck.

He didn't stop to consider if it would hurt. It didn't matter if it would hurt him. "She's mine. You can't have her. You'll never, _ever_ break her," Spike growled as he seized her up into his arms, and bit her hard. She gasped and shuddered- but his chip didn't go off. Her torso went limp instantly, in relief from ending the pain.

She weakly clawed her way up him, breaking his bite and kissing him, for the first time ever while he was still wearing his fangs and her own blood stained him scarlet. "Thanks," she said in a barely audible voice.

"Bastard," Spike kept a hold of her, cradling her. He had loved to cradle Dru, but with Buffy, it was wrong. Wrong like this.

"I- can't fight him- if he can- do that to my- brain." Buffy's sentence was punctuated with shallow breaths.

"I know. But when the hold breaks-" He kept her head tilted back watched in relief as her eyes returned to normal, and his thumb wiped away the trickle from her nose. He kissed the black-red streaks it had left around her lips.

"Said I didn't give myself to you. My heart was Riley's. No. Not true. Just not ready for all the - all the things," Buffy kissed him back, reveling in his gentle, concerned touch, the way his eyes didn't leave her face.

"Pet, I don't believe a word that git says! Don't you think on it."

"Called you weak."

Spike's confident tone faded. "I'm- I'm chipped. I'm not weak. I'll match him, Luv, go toe-to-toe, only he can slip away, fog and mist and all. Maybe those wicca buddies of yours could help us with that? Get him locked down, yeah?"

Buffy's head lolled back before she made a push to rise, looking at him with a soft smile. "Such a liar."

He was tempted to drop her. He stiffened, jaw tight and eyes glaring, but she continued with the same exhausted smile.

"Has he ever killed a Slayer? Nope. Have you? Yep. Not that I'm pro-slaying of Slayers. But I am pro-Slayer of Slayers. We're going to dust and decapitate or- immolate- his ass. He's the weak one. You don't hide behind tricks. You have brains. And muscles. Soooo many nice muscles."

"He slammed into your brains but good," Spike laughed gently at the sweet form in his arms. "C'mon. Back into bed. Get some kip. I'll stay awake. Maybe he won't bother you if I'm not in there."

"Nah. He'll bother me wherever. He doesn't like when I talk back to him, did you notice?" Buffy wiped her nose and upper lip with a tissue, removing the final visible remnants of the attack.

"That I did. Pissy little blighter, isn't he? Likes to order and lord it about, probably thinks a strong woman would be a challenge, someone equal for a change, someone to - to make him feel like he's somethin' real," Spike's voice faded away. "Finn's lucky."

"Hm?" Her injured, sleepy brain fought its way back to alertness.

"You gave him a shot in a million. To be with you. No thralls. No deals. No barters and hidden contracts to be made to get you out of a jam. He was just your sort of guy an' you picked him. Lucky." He flashed her a smile that didn't match the intense and sudden sadness in his eyes.

"But I didn't love him. I tried to," Buffy confessed as they wearily settled themselves back into bed. "Spike, if I love someone in spite of the bad jams, the weird contracts- I think that's deeper. It's more work. Less fun. Less normal. If I love you with all that garbage…" she was too tired to be coy or glamorous about it. "Then it's real."

"Then it's real," he repeated wonderingly. "Sleep, Luv. I hope you an' I have a nice time in your dreams. I'll be out here. The bouncer for the misty mentalist."

She gave him a tired kiss on the ribs, the only part she could easily reach as she laid down and he sat up.

In moments she was sleeping. Spike stared at her for a long time. He had instincts inside him that were pulling at him to do something, but he didn't know if they were useful instincts or a load of rubbish. _Well, who knows? We're not flying entirely blind, but with a pretty smudgy set of lenses. _He placed his hand on her head slowly, softly, so she wouldn't wake up.

"She who needs no protection, is protected by me, all the same. I challenge any bond or claim any others have over her. This Slayer is mine and … I am hers. If she is under my protection then I'm under hers. Any power I have is hers. And power she shares, I'll willingly take. My sweet Slayer. Kindred one..."

For the first time in days, Buffy's heartbeat went back to its normal rhythm, and her sleep was dreamless and deep.

_To be continued..._


	14. Part XIV

**Kindred**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_**Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, and the kind guest reviewers. Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon. The sequel to CrossRealms: Shattered, CrossRealms: Mended by S.C. Principale is out on Kindle and in paperback. Happy smutty reading! **_

**Part XIV**

"Are you sure we're not going to wake her up?"

"She's non-sleepy Buffy. She can't get the mystical mocha out of her system until Spike- I mean, whoever is helping her- breaks Dracula's hold. It's so creepy," Willow's voice had dropped to a whisper as they drove from campus to Buffy's house.

"The Spike thing or the Dracula thing?"

"Both, kind of, but mainly Dracula. I mean, whoever is helping Buffy- and it's NOT Spike," Willow's voice wobbled as she told what she believed to be a lie, "is doing a kind, helpful thing which Buffy asked for. Dracula - okay, yes Buffy had trouble resisting him and she did do some things because she was curious, but she never, ever agreed to this whole 'hold' thing. It's ooky. It's like metaphysical coercion, or extortion, or- or date rape," Willow shuddered heartily.

Tara was silent, fingers kneading the skirt on her lap. "When Riley gets mad at her over this, I can't - I can't seem to remember how awesome he's been to her, or the way he helped you with Oz, or even how much fun he was to hang out with at the beach. All I can think is- he's blaming the victim. He kept thinking she was into vampires in a sexual way. That's like any woman who has a boyfriend saying they are okay with _any_ male being - b-being physical with them. She had one relationship with_ one _vampire. Not all of them. You don't have a werewolf fetish, do you?"

"No!" Willow shook her head, nose wrinkling. "Some majorly unpleasant werewolves in my experience…"

"It _bugs_ me! For someone with such book smarts, all his 'training', to act so stubbornly ignorant." Tara displayed an unusual show of temper, tiny white sparks suddenly sprinkling from her fingertips.

"I know, Baby. It bugs Buffy, too. Riley has to get his head out of his regulation hiney and realize that Buffy had one relationship, with one individual, or he's the one who's going to end up in the ex category." Willow parked the car in Buffy' driveway and they carried the pendant and three coffees (one decaf) to the front door.

"You're sure we shouldn't have called first?" Tara asked, fist poised above the door.

"Tara? Do you recognize that coat?"

"Buffy's jacket? Oh. The one next to it. Spike's."

They exchanged glances. "That- that doesn't have to mean anything," Willow said resolutely. "Sometimes he comes over. Has information. Yep. If anyone asks- he was just over here checking in, informing on local demon badness."

"Riley's out of town, right?"

"Thank goodness," Willow whisked the coat into her arms, gagged at the malodorous scent coming from it, and pounded on the door.

* * *

"Soldier Boy?" Spike, who had finally dozed off around sunup, now jerked away guiltily. Not guilty about what they'd done, guilty he'd fallen asleep when he should have kept watch. Watch against what and how effectively, he didn't know, it was just the thought behind the action that mattered. The thought of Finn hurting him- that was bad. But now it was tinged with something worse._ If I die before it's done, she'll never get free. _

_ And I won't be with her anymore._

"Stay here, get dressed," Buffy answered automatically, going from zonked and peacefully resting to battle stations in seconds. "He's supposed to be out of town!"

"He's supposed to be a supportive, evolved college-boy, too," Spike scoffed. "And get dressed in what? My togs are in your dryer. Switched 'em after our shower."

"Gripe later, hide now," Buffy seized a sundress from her closet and threw it on over her head.

"Bite!" Spike hissed, grabbing his slightly damp towel from last night and wrapping it around his waist.

"Oh!" Buffy made a flustered sound and yanked a scarf from a drawer and tied it on over her telltale marks. "Not my best outfit, but it'll do," she winced at the unsightly combination of pink paisley dress and orange silk scarf before thundering down the stairs.

_Oh, thank God_. Buffy sagged in relief and flung open the door. "Will! Tara! Hi, I- oh man. Did that thing slime you, too?" Buffy covered her nose as the smell hit her.

"This was on your porch. But does that mean… Wait- is Spike okay? Did he get- like- is this all that's left?" Willow looked at the coat with sudden horror. She didn't love Spike or anything, but she'd gotten used to him. Not having him around would be jarring, at least for a while.

"Huh? Oh. No, we patrolled. I couldn't sleep. You know. Antsy. I uh- I thought maybe I'd take him along for backup since I'm not entirely at my best."

"Stinky slime monster?" Willow looked around, trying to figure out where to put the object in question.

"Yeah. I'll put it outside for when he- comes back. He must've left it here. It's definitely," she coughed, "potent."

"Deiectionem!" Tara flinched as the coat passed her and uttered a short exclamation, aimed at the garment.

"Whoa. That's- amazing. Tara, you could run the best dry cleaning business in the world! It's clean!" Buffy held it up and inhaled. "Beyond clean, it's like brand new! It doesn't even smell like him anymore. No little traces of smoke and bourbon, no smell of his hair and -"_ I am totally hugging his coat while inhaling it, talking about the scent of him. And they're staring. Big, big-eyed staring_. "It-it's very clean. Nice job." She handed it back a little too quickly.

"It's just a little spell. But great idea. If college doesn't work out, dry cleaning would be lucrative," Tara laughed softly. "Coffee? Sorry, we didn't know he- was here. Is he here?"

Buffy hesitated.

"Buffy," Willow said a speech in one word. It meant, "Don't bother lying, we figured it out, and you're safe."

Buffy's face closed over. "Riley will _kill_ him. Willow, please…"

"Not a word. Wicca's oath."

"Wicca's oath," Tara seconded.

"I'll be right back. Can you guys close the drapes?"

Buffy went into the kitchen, down to the basement, and back up with an armful of clothes, ignoring their shocked glances. "Slime monster. We did laundry, no big."

"Right, no big." Tara and Willow nodded their agreement.

When Buffy was gone, they huddled. "This is so not the plan! We agreed on avoiding him so we could be honest if Riley asked us anything."

"W-we took a Wiccan oath. We are bound to it. We'll be fine," Tara said staunchly, although now intensely uncomfortable at the thought of meeting up with Riley - for multiple reasons. She tended to shut down around loud, yelling males, courtesy of her childhood. But for her new family, she could be strong. "We can do it."

"We can do it," Willow rejoined.

They shifted from foot to foot, hesitating in the foyer.

Tara gave her a bemused look. "What's he wearing?"

"I'm sure he has - something on."

"Of course! Right. I'm sure! Maybe some of Riley's stuff that was here."

"Xander left some clothes here. All of our stuff is at everyone's places. It's a Scooby thing."

Neither of them felt like saying Xander or Riley would explode at the thought of Spike lounging about in their clothes. Well, Riley would. Xander would grump, but had already had that happen when Spike was forced to be his reluctant houseguest.

But it was much better than the other nagging thought that was bouncing around unspoken.

Why would a naked Spike be upstairs in Buffy's house first thing in the morning?

"He couldn't go home without clothes. Even at night. And at night- hey, that's prime time for vampires. Plus, if he's helping her and they're… close, it's no big deal for him to spend a few hours here," Willow rambled, pacing in front of her wide-eyed girlfriend.

Tara shook her head. "No, of course not."

"She'll probably hand him his things through the door. Of the guest bedroom."

"Absolutely."

"We should stop thinking about this now."

"So much yes."

* * *

"It's not him?" Spike poked his head out from the spare room as he heard her footsteps and only hers approach. "It's the witches?"

"They know you're here." She handed him his clothes, and he dropped the towel he was wearing.

"You told them?" He looked aggrieved then angry as he slid on his jeans.

"No, your _coat_ told them. We left it outside on the porch."

"Oh. Well, you could've said I left it."

"I did." Buffy pulled him across the way, into her room, and hugged him tightly. "They fixed your coat. It smells brand new. Doesn't even smell like you anymore." She inhaled, head pressed to his chest.

"Oh, don't," he whispered, feeling her warmth press up against him. "Don't talk about scents and tastes. Vamps are predators."

"So are slayers. We just have different types of prey," Buffy whispered looking up at him, eyes wide and dark.

"Yeah, they do. You snared me, Baby."

"Not trapped?"

"Beyond willing to go with you. What'cha going to do with me now that you'd got me?" He winked, hands coming down to press her closer to him, soft, firm rear in his hands, soft, firm breasts to his chest.

"Hmmm. I could use a hunting partner. Or I might just eat you all up."

"Holy sweet… fuck, Buffy…" She knew everything to say to him. How? How, when a week ago she was the most annoying thing on the planet?

"They won't tell, Spike. You know them. They're good. Really good. And- they care about me. They don't want you to get hurt. They know I care about you, too."

"What do I say?" He looked like a man about to be led to his own execution.

_I would never let them hurt him. Nothing comes between my kindred and me._ Those words wended through her mind, but they felt far too possessive. _Must be his hold winning out. _

_And that fact that I love him._

Her voice was soft, yet steely. "That you're my cure. You don't have to say much at all."

* * *

"I f-fixed your coat," Tara held it out to him, eyes wavering between his face and the floor, mainly ending up on the floor.

"Ta. Tara, isn't it?"

"Tara."

"Sorry, I always think of you as 'Red's bird' in my head. No offense."

"It's okay. We always talk about you as the 'chipped vampire'." Buffy gave him a saccharine smile that earned her a glare. "No offense."

"None taken." He glowered. _Gonna make her pay for that. _He growled slightly and she merely tilted her head, swallowing him up in her eyes.

_She'll swallow me up in that mouth before another night goes past. _

"I - should go." Spike felt lust overcoming all of his barely held civility.

"Right, um- patrol tonight?"

"Sure thing, Slayer. Nine?"

"Maybe later? I should probably try to go see what research I can help with now that Riley's out of town. He apparently turned the last research session into a smash and snarl."

"He and I finally have somethin' in common? I'm deeply shamed. Tell you what, if you want help, I'll come over. I got a fair bit of knowledge. Can read my Latin and Greek like any good Cambridge lad. Like to prove I can outdo your jacked up green goon."

"Spike… ugh. Yes, that would be helpful," Buffy relented. Don't go, she wanted to plead_. Stay next to me all day. I don't have things to do that I couldn't do with someone by my side. And that someone could be you. Because I feel… at ease around you. Peaceful. Hey. _Peaceful. "Spike! Um. Can I see you for just a minute?" Privately!" Buffy's voice lost any semblance of calm.

Tara and Willow exchanged another look, one of many they had been passing, silently trying to decode a new pattern of snarking, body language, and comfort that existed between the former enemies.

"Wait, wait." Willow stepped up boldly. "We don't need the secrecy club. I mean, we're all about secrecy. We'll keep secrets. Very secretly. But, we made you this." She held out a slender white obelisk with the tip burnt black dangling from a piece of black cord.

"Not a bad lookin' trinket, Slayer- oh. You meant me?" Spike watched the witch bypass Buffy's outstretched palm and point it toward him. She dropped it in his hand without touching him. It was the other one who moved forward and picked it back up, lifted her arms in their flowing sleeves, level with his head, and looked into his eyes while she slid it on over his over his neck. "What's this?" Spike asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"Protection charm. Not all demons are bad. Not all of them have to be." Tara looked down briefly, mouth twitching. "This is a talisman for the wise one who uses his darkness as protection, as help. Should it change, and your darkness be used for destruction and harm of innocents- it'll shatter. And it might penetrate skin, so... "

"So plenty of incentive to play nice. But why do-"

Buffy reached up suddenly and yanked her orange scarf off with an impatient, tired-of-hiding-it sigh. "Because they know. They're the big brains in the group, Spike. I wasn't going to fool them for long."

"We won't tell," Willow vowed instantly, her suspicions confirmed.

"Right," Spike said stiffly. Didn't know what to feel. Pride. She was openly his. So_ they_ didn't know how much, but he did. Fear. One false move, one angry git threatening one of those women, and the other would crack to save her lover. Or hex his balls off. That'd be better. Lastly, there was confusion. He wasn't used to exchanging kindnesses with these two, had no reason to, and now… he found he quite loved it. _The blood of my blood, is blood to me. _

_ Damn mystical words. Where the fuck do they keep comin' from? I don't read ancient volumes, holed up in my lonely library with my little book of spells. _"Thank you, ladies. Listen- if Finn comes at you- hex him."

The trio of females gasped and he rolled his eyes. "I'm dead serious! He's gonna go mad if he finds out about this, and Slayer says he's already not well. If he snaps- hex him, curse him, put him in defensive headlock if that's your style, just- don't let him hurt you. I'll see you lot tonight. I'll head out, Buffy."

"Wait… it's light out. I don't want you to get burned."

"I've got my coat. It's even springtime fresh. I can borrow a blanket. You have coffee with your mates. We forgot the blood last night anyway, so I should go."

Tara and Willow had another bout of staring and silent conversations.

_Neither one of them wants to leave the other. She makes plausible excuses or him to be here. He does, too. He tries to act like he's just stopping by, and it's clearly so much more. Trying to make it look like- what exactly? That they're not close?_

"H-how does this breaking a hold thing work, exactly? How's it going?" Willow tried to make perky small talk that just came out sounding tense and squeaky.

"I really need to talk to Spike for just a second!" Buffy grabbed him roughly by the elbow and propelled him into the kitchen so hard that he let out a short yell and tripped sideways.

"What the hell, Luv? I'll stay all day if you want, worship you sunup to sundown, but not with an audience," he hissed, lips close to hers. He gave her a mildly concerned look. "Unless that's your thing? I'm sure it's not. No, actually even if that _is_ your thing, I don't like the idea of-"

"God, no, not my thing!" Buffy declared in an emphatic hiss.

"Good. Had to watch Angelus take Dru from me a few times, in the literal and physical sense of takin' and I've been sick at the thought of an' audience ever since. 'Specially if one of 'em really loves the other. Ought to be...private." He slid the last word past his lips and wound them into her senses, his hand doing the same thing, down the side of her sundress, reaching for that sweet spot that she was keeping warm for him.

"Or if they both do." Buffy put a hand on his cheek, her eyes fluttering shut as she held in a moan. Fingers touched her, just enough to make her tingle. She bit her lip and forced her mind to leave pleasurable avenues of thought for a moment."Spike, I'd love you to stay, but if you gotta go, I get it. Just listen first." She drew his head close to her heart.

He listened. "Yeah? So? Sounds fine. Perfectly normal." Comprehension crossed his face, clearing the confusion with a smile that matched her own."Perfectly normal!"

"But- he was still in my dream."

"It must be so weak now, Luv. Didn't he even say it? By a thread, he said! We're winning. We're _winning_!" One fist shot in the air.

"_We're_ winning!" She dug her fingers into his shoulders as their eyes shared a spark of relief and triumph.

Joyous hullabaloo earned them spectators, just as she flung herself into his arms and he whirled her about, her hands in his hair, both beaming and whooping.

So happy, thought Willow, mystified. Like, really, _really_ happy.

In love, realized Tara worriedly.

"My heartbeat's normal! No more rush-y Buffy!"

"It worked?" Tara looked relieved.

"So fast?" Willow looked relieved and puzzled. Dracula was the master at getting victims to connect with him, putting them so deeply under his spell that they had yet to read of him letting go, breaking the bond except when he wanted to "replace" someone that he already possessed. In spite of Giles' initial supposition of two bites, two exchanges of blood, two kisses to Dracula's singular actions, everyone had feared it would take a lot longer.

"He showed up in my dreams a couple times, Will. Maybe he's not beat, but he's on the run."

"This is really- good! But surprising! Again, in the good way. Spike must be very powerful."

He preened a little, then shrugged. "Actually, it's her. She's a hell of a fighter. He didn't stand a chance."

"Don't sell yourself short. He's the guy who uses magic and tricks, you're the one who uses brains, strength, and skills. That's power!"

"Are you guys going to stop now? That he's weakened? See if it fades out?" Willow asked.

"Too risky," Spike said quickly.

"No way. I have a feeling he's like termites - or was it roaches? Never mind. You have to get rid of the whole nest, not just be happy when you see less of them? I want him gone, as in permanently gone." She and Spike exchanged a look. They'd talk more about how to make Dracula, as well as his bond, disappear for good later.

"This calls for celebratory breakfast! omelets. Buffy, do you want us to make omelets?" Willow asked. "Tara makes everything amazing."

"Spike, d-do you want to stay? Do you eat eggs?" Tara asked, blinking at him as if seeing a new species.

He gave Buffy a look and she nodded. "All right. Thanks again. Should have bitten you a long time ago, Slayer, if it came with all the little morsels treatin' me like a friend."

"That's something you would have wanted? And so much no to the biting me earlier."

Spike blinked at the words he'd just said. "No! Of course not. Well… it's not horrible. Always had a soft spot for Red. She's a good shoulder to cry on."

"Oh yeah, the kidnapping and attempted biting really bonded us," Willow rolled her eyes.

"But you're a good listener," Spike ignored the pointed reminder of past misdeeds. "And you make good cookies."

"You tried to bite my girlf-friend?" Tara stammered.

"Never will again, vamp's honor."

"Good," Tara said one word and froze him with a glare. He swore he felt parts of him ice up. _Might get a soft spot for Blondie, too. But there's only one soft spot of my own I want…_ He looked covetously at Buffy.

"I- I should let Giles know. And check in on Riley. Um. I'll be right back."

Spike nodded stiffly. "Give him my regards." He gave her a smirk that sent her off with a long suffering sigh. "He's a git."

"Giles?" Willow bridled.

"No, the Watcher's decent. Finn. Useless wanker."

"Hey! That's Buffy's boyfriend you're talking about and I think you'd better-" Willow stopped her tirade when she caught sight of the pain on Spike's face at her remark.

"I'll leave you to your cookin'." Spike walked from the room without a backward glance.

"Oh. Oh, no." Willow winced.

"He really cares about her, doesn't he?" Tara whispered.

"This is so bad."

"Well… not if it's mutual." Tara suggested tentatively with a shrug.

A protest died on Willow's lips. Creepy. Icky._ But way better than having to visit your undead best friend in Transylvania, wondering if her new hubby will decided to morph into a bat and land in your hair. _"Maybe."

* * *

"My heartbeat is normal! Like, totally normal. But Drac can still get into my head. He actually got into my _dreams_ and told me he wanted me to be his queen and that I was playing at normal and Spike was weak. Hello, who's killed two Slayers? Spike. Not Dracula. He's so- so dramatic. And broody. At least Spike backs up his drama with some practical stuff."

"Er- wonderful?" Giles stared blearily at the phone. Council phone calls had kept him up half the night and done him very little good in terms of either answers or sleep.

"What?"

"Is the hold broken?"

"I doubt it. Would Dracula be able to talk to me in my dreams if it were?"

"I don't know. Tonight I'll see what we can find out about his somnambulistic manipulations, if anything."

"What about an ambulance?"

"His ability to manipulate the sleeping consciousness."

"Spike and I will be there to help research tonight. But we still want to keep the hold in place, Spike's, I mean."

"Most definitely! Buffy, I would actually advise you to - to consider keeping it in place until Dracula is dead. Permanently dispatched."

Buffy paused. "Giles, that could be months from now."

He closed his eyes. He knew that, of course. He knew what he was asking. "Dracula would have to physically be present and bite you and forge twice the connection Spike has formed with you. Even if- God forbid, Dracula managed to - to-"

"To kidnap me and try to undo the hold, there would be a lot of time he'd have to put in?"

"Erm. Yes, unpleasant as it is to consider. Not that you and Spike would necessarily continue to strengthen the bond in the sense of biting or exchanging- hrm- kisses."

_So much more than kisses._ "What if we did?"

"You'd have an intense bond. Dracula would be hard pressed to break it. Though Buffy- if you should continue with Spike, you'd have to be aware of what it would do to you."

She blinked. "What would it do?"

"You'd become attached. Emotionally, very deeply attached, Beyond caring for him as a helpful associate, beyond a- dare I say, some kind of friend. He might begin to feel a great deal more for you as well."

Buffy bit her lip. _We already have that problem. What would it be like in months? To feel this loved and comfortable already? In months it would feel… indescribable. Indescribably wonderful._ _To always know someone loves you and wants you, and understands you? Knows the secrets you don't even like to tell yourself. You don't ever have to feel alone, even if you're a loner. Never have to feel like a freak, even if you know part of you is? _"We'll back off over time," she murmured, unsure if she were lying. _Well, it's been every night since we started. Maybe we'll take some nights off if this keeps going. Some couples have date night. We'll have "wait night". Then the next night, we don't wait anymore. That'll count as backing off. I just won't tell Giles the details of said backing off._

"Not yet. Not until you no longer feel any of Dracula's pull, consciously, physically, or in your dreams. Perhaps even for several weeks after. I'm so sorry, Buffy, I wish I had more practical advice. I did hear last night that the Council may have a lead on where Dracula's currently located. They're tracking down a source, but it's not definite. Travers himself is planning to become involved. That is promising."

"And horrible? Promising to be sucky and terrifying? I_ hate _him!"

"He has access to information that I do not. That even the rest of the Watchers may not. Moreover, he can decide whether or not to share it."

Buffy sighed. "All right. What time should we come over?"

"I'll be home by five. I have some things to do, errands to run." _Black market sources to consult, demons to bribe…_

"Want us to bring pizza?"

"I'll treat us to Chinese. It's the least I can do."

"Ooh, big spender."

_If getting her out of this was available for a price, I'd sell my soul. Well- only with certain guarantees and a non-possession clause._ "You're worth it."

Buffy hung up with a sweet smile that soon vanished in trepidation. She called Riley's cell phone and waited anxiously as it rang.

"Come on. Come on, don't be - don't chipped or Adam-ized or something horrible and half-mechanoid," Buffy muttered as she paced the floor of her room.

"Hello?"

"Riley! Thank God! Are you okay?"

"Actually… not exactly. My heart rate's spiking into the 160s and they're having trouble bringing it down."

"What's that mean? That's a bad number, isn't it?" Buffy hesitated by her closet. _Time to pack? Time to rush to be by his side?_

"It's bad. They're not really giving me a choice at this point, Buffy. I got my first suppression dose and something to slow my heart about an hour ago. I just got off the phone with my folks. Surgery is tomorrow morning."

"And that'll make it better? You'll be okay?"

'I'll be fine, Sweetie, don't worry. They're doing Graham and me back to back. We'll be roomies again, just like back in special forces training. Of course, instead of running twenty miles a day with one hundred pound backpacks, we're going to lie on our backs and eat jello."

Buffy had to smile at the upbeat tone in his voice. _Always working through it. Manages to make little jokes. _"I'm glad they can help you. I'm so glad they caught this in time, Riley. Where will the surgery be?"

"Uh- that's classified to you, sorry. I _can _say it's in California. I'm not supposed to tell you which base, since this is technically old Initiative related stuff."

"Ah, all with the hush hush," Buffy rubbed her neck absently as the ball of worry in her stomach grew. "When will you call me? When can you have visitors? Can you have them tonight?"

"No on the visitors, I'm getting ready to transfer to the base in a few hours. Don't worry. Graham's CO, Ellis, is going with me, and so are two old buddies, Goodman and Brown. They've got my back."

"Thank God."

"As for the call- well, it's heart surgery. I'll be on a ventilator for awhile, and then I'll be high on pain meds for a while, making no sense." They laughed together at that one. "Probably by the day after I should manage a call. If anything happens, I put your number and my parents down as the ones to inform."

"B-but this is safe, right? There shouldn't be any need to inform? Right?" Buffy's voice took on a hysterical edge. _Please don't let him die. He can be a jerk, but I don't want him to die._

Her bedroom door opened. Spike popped his head in, face mirroring hers, concerned. Not for Finn. For her. "Alright?" he mouthed. She nodded and he withdrew.

"-routine as it can be under the circumstances. Way less dicey than fighting Adam and demons."

Buffy realized that Riley had been talking and she'd missed it, but from what she _did _catch, she could tell he'd been offering reassurance. "That's good to know," she bluffed her way through a response. She hesitated. _Is he going to ask about my problem? I hope not._

_Although, that doesn't seem very considerate if he doesn't, since both of our "conditions" can lead to some serious deathliness._

"How's it going there?"

"Fine. Researching tonight."

"Mmhm. Anything?" Riley's voice suddenly sounded tight.

"No. Not yet."

"You said you'd be okay waiting a week."

_That was not exactly what I said. _"Yeah."

"It's almost a week."

"I know."

"Well… obviously I'm going to be recuperating so-"

"Oh, that's good. Right? I can handle this and you can handle that."

"I was about to say, you're going to have to wait."

"Say what now?"

"The vampire? I know you don't want me there. In the room. But I'm not going to let you go down and see Angel without some backup. I'll be fine in a few weeks. Four, tops."

"I'm confused. Are you saying you want me to wait a month?"

"Tops! Maybe just another two weeks."

"And why?"

"Are you going to use Angel?"

"I'm not going to_ use _anyone. I'm going to find- a friend to help me."

"You have other vampire friends?"

"No, not exactly, but-"

"So, it's Angel. Don't lie to me. I'm sick, not stupid."

_Oh, I could argue about that. _"Go ahead."

"He's dangerous."

"Under certain conditions, yeah."

"Under biting you conditions- definitely." His stomach curled in disgust. His monitor beeped as he hit 170. "I want someone with firepower to back you up."

"Well then, that would be Willow. She's the one who can put his soul back if it comes out, and Riley, there's only one way that would happen. Sex. Perfectly happy, joyful, in-love-with-you sex. I'm not having that with Angel. I'm not having _any kind _of sex with Angel. I swear to it on everything."

_Just don't ask me about Spike and we're golden._

A pause. A long one. "I want to believe you."

"Then do."

"But I don't believe he'll be-"

"Riley! You have to trust me about this." _No. He shouldn't trust me. I'm lying. And cheating on him, just not with Angel. But I'm lying because I had to go behind his back because he didn't trust me in the first place. _

_Because he blamed me for it, and then he wouldn't even let me try to fight it the only way that we know works._

_If I have guilt, he gets joint custody of it. _

"I trust you, I don't trust the situation."

"Well, that sucks, because I _am_ the situation. This is my situation and it's happening to me, my body. I'll have Giles and Willow and Tara help me. Okay? Three incredibly powerful magic users-"

"Not one of them with a crossbow pointed at his head?"

"Oh yeah, 'cause that'd really help us feel comfortable."

"You're not supposed to be comfortable! You are my girlfriend, not his!"

"Just stop, Riley. Listen to yourself. I'm not supposed to be comfortable because I'm your girlfriend, not his. If this was about Angel and me, it would have nothing to do with me wanting to be his girlfriend again. It would be about him being willing to help get me out of a mess. Which we do for each other. We'll never be close friends, but we come through."

_Only we don't. He won't. Now I'm lying about my lying. _

_But if Spike stays safe- then I'll lie. There are some people you'll do anything for. I just never thought one of mine would be Spike. But then again, I never thought I would be that person for him, either. _

"What about what he wants?"

"He wants me to get better." _That much is true._

"And I don't?"

"I'm not sure right now, Riley. It seems like I'm allowed to get better if you handle the treatment. Like if I said you could get your heart all fixed up, but only by doing meditation and taking vitamins. Low risk."

"This is my heart we're talking about!"

"Yeah? This is my life as a human we're talking about. Seems to me, either one of us could soon be in the non-beating heart club. You'd get a coffin draped in a flag. I'd get reanimated and be trained to submit to some evil bastard who thinks he's man enough for three wives."

Riley felt sick. Shaky. It wasn't just the pounding heart. "You're going to do what you want, aren't you?" Somewhere in the bag of a sickened mind, a little voice nagged that he should feel disgusted by what Dracula planned to do more so than anything else. But the thought of Buffy being with any vamp, for any reason, obscured everything in a haze of anger.

"No, Riley, because I didn't _want_ any of this. I'm going to do what I_ have_ to."

"Seems like if you didn't want to do it, you'd find a way around it."

"Oh my God, Riley. Really? Have you been listening to me at all? You think I _wanted _to fight Adam? I _wanted _to face the Master and actually, _literally _die? I _wanted_ to send Angel to hell? Angel, who had his soul back, who was my first love? You think I wanted any of that? You think we didn't try EVERYTHING else?" Buffy's voice soared.

"But you're not in any -"

"Danger?"

"The world isn't going to end-"

"But I might?"

"Stop that!"

"Stop what? Having answers? I'm not the little freshman who doesn't know her way around the campus bookstore, Riley. I'm the_ Slayer_. I know my way around vampires, curses, apocalypses, and death. This is my battlefield. This is my area of expertise. It's my art. It's my gift."

"Okay… _now_ you sound crazy."

"I told you not to ever call me that." _I'm not crazy. I'm less crazy. I actually get it now. How strong I am. Why I'm tired. Who's going to help me. It's probably not him. Like, 99.9 percent sure it's not him. Not talking about when we're doing hand-to-hand with a bunch of demons, he'd totally help. But help me as _me. "I don't think this argument is helping either of us."

"No. Probably not."

"You'll call me as soon as you can?"

"Okay."

"Well. Good luck. Be careful, be safe, and tell me when you can have visitors, or when you're coming home. I can come to get you wh-"

"Buffy."

"Hm?"

"You be careful, too."

"I will."

"Does he actually have to kiss you?"

"Uh- it has to be something intimate."

"That's - that can't be right!" How was he supposed to tolerate that?

"No, it's totally wrong. This whole thing is very, very wrong," Buffy flopped back on her bed. It smelled like Spike, and sex, and sweetnes.

"You'd be letting him use you."

"No… I'd be letting him help me, playing by the sick, twisted rules that Dracula put into play before asking me if I was interested in a game of Claim that Slayer. Since I'm already a pawn in this, I have to make smart moves, outwit the caped bastard, and then kill him when it's broken. And only when it's broken, Riley. I almost-" she considered telling him how awful last night had been.

"You almost what?"

"He attacked me last night."

"What? He was there?" Another warning beep on the monitor.

"Not exactly. He's in my head. He made this sound- and it was going on and on and on- just so loud and high, I felt like I couldn't move. My nose started to bleed, my vision went. If I hadn't had-" _Spike's help, I'd be dead. Brain blown up. _She shuddered, cold seeping into her skin in spite of the warm, cozy bedroom. _Or would he have stopped first? No glory in killing the bride without the ability to turn her, right?_

"So, he just gave you a bad headache?"

"_No_. He attacked my brain. Loss of life pending, Riley. The only reason I'm not dead is because- there was strength to draw on." _Not mine. Spike's._

"You beat him."

"That time. When he's still weak. If he keeps it up- no. Riley, no, stop asking me to gamble with this. I have to get better, then I take him out." Fresh silence. "Riley?"

"I'm not dealing with this. It's the - it's the meds. And the organ damage. It's hard to concentrate when you're moving a hundred miles an hour."

"Tell me about it," Buffy crossed her arms. _I literally had that. As far as you know, I _still _have that. And you're okay with me dealing with it, with letting my suffering drag on for another month, maybe, until you can "supervise" my efforts to get better._

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad. I'm upset. I'm upset that you don't get it, and I'm upset that I have this crappy situation happening to me, and I'm upset that you're sick, because I know stress is bad for you and I would give just about anything to have my life events come out nice and neat. And they never, ever have, not since I got all 'Chosen.' I don't know what's going to happen next. I would love it if you would be there for me. Unquestioningly, supportively there for me."

_Be that guy. Come on. You can do it. You were Mr. Don't Ask, Mr. Follow Orders. This isn't even an order. _

"That doesn't sound like much of a relationship, Buffy. When you don't question the other person? No debate, no discussion?"

Buffy's brain threatened to explode from keeping in the argument she wanted to shout._ Agh! You hate when I debate stuff. With Walsh, with you. Maybe that's why you don't like my friends. We disagree, we argue, but they back me up in the end. _"I never said that! I said _support _me without questioning me. I meant on the hard stuff, the slaying stuff that I have to do."

"And getting intimate with the ex… is something you _have_ to do?"

"Want me to find someone else?" Buffy suddenly challenged. She considered bringing up how angry Riley was getting over a kiss with a past lover, current ally, and yet he had gotten pretty damn "intimate" with Faith, not even realizing it. _No, don't make this worse, not more stressful. _But the point was, she had managed to move on. _If Riley wanted this to work, he could at least try to overlook something so minor- but I don't want this to work. I just don't, not anymore._

"Are we talking about someone else to date or to bite you? Or are those the same things now?" Riley mocked.

"Dear God, will you listen to yourself? You are not the Riley Finn I know- or used to know. He doesn't hurt people. He was a nice guy."

He scowled. "That was before I knew you liked your guys a little meaner."

When she sat up, her hand was shaking. "Okay. Fine. Maybe I like a little edge. I don't like it when it's against me. That's never how couples should be. You use whatever you've got, light, dark, strength- and you share it. You don't turn it against them."

"Then maybe you don't want us to be a couple."

"You're right. Maybe I don't."

Both of them were stunned. "I- I'm sorry," Buffy whispered. "Riley, I-"

"You didn't mean it."

_No, that's not what I'm sorry for. _"No, Riley, listen. We need to -"

"Agent Finn? You're going to have to end that phone call. The nurse's station keeps getting a code red for your monitors."

Buffy bit her lip as she heard Riley's muffled voice pleaded with the nurse or doctor to give him two more minutes. _Code red? That usually means imminent disaster. This is already a disaster. _

"Sorry, Buffy. These quacks. They don't know what this heart can take."

She blinked back a tear. _I sure can dish it out, huh? Funny, so can the guys I date. _"You have to rest. We need time to think about things. Things change. Things have changed between us, Riley. We've changed as people, and as a couple. I need… I need you to let me go."

"Let you go?"

"I do care so much about you," Buffy said sincerely._ I don't want anything bad to happen to him._

_Let me go? Let her go? No. This isn't happening. Just a bump. She has to understand that. Look at all the craziness I've put up with._ _No, no, she means she needs to get off the phone. She wants me to rest, she wants to hang up, not break up. That's it. That's all. _"I care about you. I love you. I'm sorry for whatever I said that was out of line. This isn't me. It's so much overload in my system talking, that's all."

_No. No, it really isn't. It's the system bypassing your filter. Saying what you mean, what you want. This is what Anya's like all the time. You can call her a lot of things, but one of them is honest._ "I understand what you mean." _Part of me wishes I didn't. _

"I'll let you go and call you back as soon as I can. Are we good?"

She hesitated. The honest answer was no. The honest answer might send him into cardiac arrest, and that was murder by mouth. _He didn't get it. Which might be what's keeping his heart from staying in that "code red" zone. _"We are going to get through this." _And are we good? Yes. As people who fight evil. Good for each other? No. Not as a couple. Not anymore. Maybe as friends. Maybe someday._ "Promise you'll call as soon as you can? Tell me where you are as soon as it's allowed?"

"I promise. I love you, Buffy."

"I'll be thinking of you, Riley. Be careful. I can't wait to see you back on your feet."

They hung up.

* * *

_She didn't say I love you_. _Then again, she never has._ Riley lay on his bunk, heart racing, but still heavy. _She never has. Never will. Let me go… Did she just- did she just try to end it? _

_Because of some vamp. _For_ some vamp…_

Red blinking lights flashed on his monitor, mirroring the sudden glint of hatred in his eyes.

* * *

_He didn't tell me it was okay. He never told me it was okay to get better._ She lay on her bed with a sinking heart. _Real men don't make women suffer. Real men don't make you ask permission to heal. _

Willow and Tara were downstairs. She rolled over and called, "Spike?"

_Want the real man. My man. _

_So what if the term "man" is a little loose? _

In seconds he came in, put his arm around her and let her huddle into his chest, recharging.

"Hey," she finally whispered.

"Hi, Pet."

"Can I tell you something when I'm upset and cranky and miserable?"

"Would I have a hope in hell of stoppin' you?" he teased, smiling gently as he ran a hand over her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered. "The more I hear how he treats me, the more I love to listen to you. I tried to end things, but I didn't. I started to, but he didn't get it, and I didn't push it. Felt like I couldn't end things with him in a big 'this is it, this is over' way because I thought that would be really bad, especially with his heart condition, especially hours before he has emergency surgery. I heard the nurse or someone telling him that he was in Code Red, his heart rate was - I don't even know what it was doing, but it wasn't good. I don't love him, but I don't want to hurt him. If I thought I killed him, I would never forgive myself. I've already done the 'killed the guy I date' thing," she let out a wet, hiccuping noise that might have been a sob or could have been a weak laugh. "But I did tell him I'm not sure about us being a couple anymore. I said he needed to let me go. He chose to skim over it. He does that a lot lately."

"You're a good one, Slayer. I don't… I hate Finn, don't get me wrong, but I don't mind you tryin' to do the decent thing by him, letting him down when it's safe. Just as long as you don't hurt yourself. Or us?"

"Nope. You are on my things not to hurt list."

"There's a list?"

She laughed weakly. "Let's eat."

* * *

"I didn't end it," Buffy sat with all of them at the dining room table, not touching her heavenly omelet. "He was majorly asking for it, though. I told him I wasn't sure about us anymore, said some other big hints, but I didn't force the big break up scene. He's about to have surgery. He's not himself."

"You sure, Luv? Sometimes when people are drunk, high, or sick they're more themselves than ever."

"I actually thought that. He had no filter. Sounded like Anya."

"_That's_ not good," Willow muttered darkly. "But, didn't you-" She opened her mouth to remind Buffy that only yesterday Buffy was going to wait to end things with Riley, in case Dracula's hold was influencing her thoughts.

_But the hold is broken- at least, it feels that way to her. Spike broke it. But that means_ Spike_ could be influencing her._

The echo of his voice, "We're winning!" and the sight of two joyous faces pressed close together as they cheered for Buffy's freedom flitted through Willow's mind- and shut her mouth._ If that's the kind of influence he has- to make my best friend smile like that, to feel like she's winning one of the battles that's making her so tired- then she can keep it as long as she likes._

"But what?" Buffy asked distractedly.

Tara mulled over Buffy's statement and the sudden smile on Willow's face. She took over the disjointed conversation and set it on a new path. "Buffy? Wh-what's the deal with his heart?"

"Operation tomorrow. He wanted me to wait for three or four weeks to start working on _my_ cure, so he could come with me and protect me from Angel. He doesn't even know I'm getting help already, he was willing to make me wait for weeks, gambling that Dracula's hold would get weaker, not stronger, all because he doesn't like the idea of Angel coming near me. A valid thing to have concerns about him, given the weird history, I get that. But the waiting- the waiting isn't good, either. Last night was rough." She retold the nosebleed, howling head story. "Of course, that might have been Drac's last hurrah, because after - well, Spike- we fixed me and I went to sleep and I woke up feeling fine for the first time in days. I get him being worried about the mechanics of this hold-breaking stuff, but I told him I'd have the two best wiccas in the world and Giles backing me up. I didn't mention the awesome vampire sidekick."

"Oi, watch that sidekick crap," Spike growled, but one eyelid dropped in a subtle wink meant for his girl to catch.

She did. "Partner?"

"Yeah, that would've spun him. Glad you left me out of this, Slayer."

"I knew you'd have my back. But he… didn't. Well, he wanted to, but on his terms. It was just awkward, followed closely by bad, potentially heartbreaking, with misery accents."

"That's a whole buffet of badness." Willow shook her head.

"I told him… death is my gift. Being a slayer is my art. It's what I know. I don't always like it, but boy do I know it. And he called me crazy."

Spike choked on his omelet. "No. Just no, Luv. I know crazy. I know it bloody intimately, and you are not that." He put his hand on her back and squeezed her shoulder. "Want me to go do something to him? Not deadly, just irritatin'? Could spit in his hospital puddin' or cut a slit in his little paper gown?"

Buffy hid a smile that threatened to appear. "Stop. No, don't do that. Not that you could. He's in a 'classified' place."

"Good, maybe they'll keep him there," Spike spoke into his mug. He looked up in time to see the blonde witch smiling back, half-masked by her cup of tea.

"I forgot to tell Giles about the nosebleed! Crap. I got so excited with the normal heartbeat. He didn't show up in my dreams after that, either." From the corner of her eyes, Buffy saw Spike's eyes flare open wide, and then he became very interested in his almost empty plate. "Well. I'll see him tonight. I can't believe class starts in one more week. I can't believe I might actually be able to sit through the lecture without climbing the walls! Thanks, Spike."

"Any time." _Every time. _

Tara put down her cup in mid-sip. "Oh, uh- Willow, I have to go to the housing office and sign the papers for this year's dorm." She turned her gaze to Buffy and Spike. "We're not telling them that Willow's moving in."

"Ah. Is that not allowed?"

"No, it's just that she's on full scholarship anyway so she doesn't have to pay her dorm fees, and if it looks like she's still living with you in your dorm room, then you don't have to get a new roommate."

"This should make slaying easier, right?" Willow asked hopefully.

"I love you!" Buffy lunged out of her chair and hugged Willow, then Tara. "You guys are the best! And Tara- Willow's right, you make amazing eggs."

Spike put his fork down with a metallic clash. "I'm still evil, you know. I can only take so much syrupy sweetness! I gotta go down the tunnels and take out a nest of somethin' nasty. It'll do me good."

"Taking out a nest of nasty demons actually_ is_ pretty good. Not sounding too evil," Willow pointed out.

Spike paused, halfway out of his chair. "Sod."

"Hey. I thought you wanted respect from the good guys, too."

"Shh, woman. Secret."

"Sorry!" Buffy looked genuinely contrite- for a second. "I can't brag about you?"

Willow's own fork dropped with a clatter. Tara's teacup rattled back to the saucer.

"Well… I suppose. If you'd like. Anything to make you happy, Slayer," he fairly purred as he sat back down and leaned toward her. She leaned toward him, the heat in their eyes practically burning what was left on their plates.

"Hrm-hmm!" Willow coughed pointedly. "We'll be going."

"No, you don't have to rush off," Buffy guiltily sprang away.

"We really have to," Tara insisted with a smile. "See you soon."

"Right! Tonight," Buffy reassured.

Hasty goodbyes were exchanged. Buffy locked the door behind them. She turned back to Spike.

"Well. That was interestin'."

"Sorry, I know this was supposed to stay a complete secret. But I promise, Riley wouldn't hurt them, or force them to talk or anything. He wouldn't hurt me. He'll- What?"

Spike was squinting at her with a skeptical look on his face."Does your army lad know how intensely powerful those two are? More powerful than some of your lower demons. Didn't ol' D'Hoffryn offer her a gig 'cause he could smell the power in her? And you're more powerful than all of 'em."

She smiled as he praised her strength, that innate "Chosen One" deal that was part of her. The part that she hated so often- but not when she heard him talk about it. Another empty feeling, like tripping over nothing, assaulted her shifting views. _Riley hates that about me. No. No he doesn't need to praise me all the time. No, it's not like I need the ego boost. I need someone who likes what I am. Maybe then, I won't feel so guilty about liking what I am, either. That little bit of power coming from the dark… I could be okay with it._ "What's your point, Spike?"

"My point is- when he's mad, what's he gonna justify doin' to someone who's a little bit extra-human? I mean, maybe you find a Putrification Demon, like we found, all teeth, stench, and slime. You figure it's hideous an' evil, and you put it down. Then a vampire- human in appearance, most of the time, demon inside, and it kills almost nightly, you put it down. Then a werewolf- human almost all of the time, but a killer three days of thirty- if not restrained properly. You put it down. Then- a witch. Human all the time, with the power to tap into the dark, to kill, by her magic. Or a Slayer, the strength and the ability to kill with her sacred power. Both of those humans have the potential to kill… but haven't yet. Do you put them down too?"

Buffy shook her head slowly. "He helped Oz, Spike."

"I'm glad. He wasn't mad at the boy, was he? Boy wasn't witholdin' anything from him, or breakin' his heart, right?"

"You're making him sound like a killer, because you hate him."

"No, I'm making him sound like he could be one. Demons don't have the monopoly on killin', Pet. Finn's more of a risk than most, because he's got a convenient perception, turns it off and on as he likes. An' 'cause to me- he's as good as one. _You_ see a guy who's stuck on his girlfriend seein' her ex. All I can see is some git who might let my girl die, because he's too cowardly to get her help. Whatever Dru needed- I got her. I didn't care if I had to take on you, or Angelus, or anyone, anything. When you're in love- you take the goddamned risks for her."

After years of being the hero- the weariness throbbed. The ache to end, to lay down and not get up called. Spike's voice overrode it. _Take the risks for her. For me. Now, it's me._

"You took the risk for me. You weren't in love with me, were you?"

"Not at first."

"Why?" she asked softly.

Complicated. A thing for her. A thing for slayers. A respect for her, a hatred for Dracula, a hatred for the idea of warping a mind, taking a strong, gifted woman, making her weak, like Angelus had done to his Drusilla… "A lot of things, Pet. Think I'd started to sort of like you a little, respect you a lot. Hated Drac. Knew it'd be worth it to help you."

"Do you realize what that means?"

"No… An' I'm afraid to ask. Is it a good or bad thing this time?" he sighed long sufferingly. He reached for a smoke. It occurred to him that he hadn't smoked much at all in three days, not in her presence. _Hm. Got all my cravin's and distractions satisfied. Rather put my mouth on her any day. _

"You're a better man- a better friend than he was- when he loved me and you were a semi-enemy."

Her face was so stunned, uncomprehending, although she'd just had a very big realization of the unpalatable kind. He hated to see her in that sort of numbed, disturbed suffering. "Look, love is when you put them first. It's bloody simple. If you needed human blood, a transfusion, or something else that he could give you…" they shared a look, "and it _had_ to be from a big, broad-shouldered secret army git named Finn for some spell to be lifted and some curse to be broken and you wanted to go along with it, I'd tell you to do it. Tell you to get better without another thought. Even if it would kill me. 'Cause I'd rather it kill me than that bad mojo kill you. It's simple."

"It's simple," Buffy repeated. Her head tilted slowly.

"What?" Spike asked, head matching hers.

"The rest of this- messy. Weird. But not you and me. Simple. I love you, Spike."

"I love you, Slayer."

She stepped up, into his arms and kissed him the way he'd wanted his whole life- back when he was a young lovestruck man, back when he'd first found himself helplessly in love with Drusilla, and every time after his heart got broken and stitched back up._ Real. Loving. Longing. No one else in that heart or mind but me. _

And he had had to ask. "What about- later?"

She didn't know. Later was a hard concept sometimes when you live night to night, when you've already died, when you're told you won't make it out of your twenties. But the deathwish- it was going to leave. The hunger was going to stay satisfied. "Later keeps turning into now. And I want you with me- now."

He kissed her, the way she had always wanted to be kissed. Happy, desperately craving her, so that she felt loved and needed, and wanted, all at once, with no tinge of sorrow and no trace of pretending that it was good enough. This was not good enough. This was better. This was it. When he pulled back, smile on his face, seriousness in his eyes, he said the words she'd wanted to hear as well.

"Want you with me… always."

To be continued...


	15. Part XV

**Kindred**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_**Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, and the kind guest reviewers.**_

_**Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the long delay, hope this big chapter makes up for it! Life happened and I had other works published (see end notes). I suggest a re-read if needed. **_

**Part XV**

"Sorry we forgot to get your blood last night." Buffy was back upstairs, looking for something that would actually look good together, instead of her emergency throw-it-on-company-is-at-the-door outfit. As she stood in her closet, her hand kept straying lovingly across her unhealed scar.

Spike sat on the edge of her bed and watched, a feeling of happiness and confusion in him. "Luv?"

"Hm?"

"Your neck hurt a bit?"

"No. Feels fine." Buffy suddenly realized where it was and dropped it guiltily. Then, not guilty at all, remembering who she was with. "Spike? I've been bitten before. NEVER had the urge to touch it. Hated the scar and the reminder of what had happened."

"I thought you might." His dark brows lowered. "Not too keen on recalling the events of your other bites m'self."

"So why?"

"You don't like bein' bit. You like bein' loved." He stole up behind her and put his head against hers. She stiffened, but not in fear. The tense muscles were an effort of will. Not to lean back into him and let him love her in other ways. "Comforts you. Someone on your side, a link with a… a friend. That no one can break."

She swallowed, eyes closing and breathing speeding up in a way that was purely related to his nearness and not some side-effect of being unwillingly claimed by Dracula. _Everything breaks. Angel. Riley. Mom throwing me out. Kendra. Faith. Even Will and Xander- friendships that I was afraid to lose. _"Giles said… if we create a hold, and we keep this in place for months and kept - kept doing what we've been doing, Dracula would have to work incredibly hard to break it if he ever got the chance. He'd never do it unless he had at least close to the same amount of time. And I don't think that even then he'd get far. I don't love him. You can trick me into some things, but I think I'd always know the difference between your love and his thrall-y deal."

"Months?" Spike licked his lips. Glorious words. Years'd be better, but months was a beautiful start. "I like months."

"He also said we'd be all bound up in affection and caring about each other, totally attached," she whispered, head tilting back to meet his eyes. "I told him we'd back off."

"Oh." Spike's tone was pained, as if she'd elbowed him in the ribs. His hands dropped reluctantly from her waist.

"So, maybe we'll have to skip the biting a few nights a month. But not now. Not until I'm sure Cape Boy is far, faaaar out of my system." She turned to him with a playful smile. "Maybe after Christmas?"

He laughed in relief and hugged her close, kissing her hard.

She laughed back into his lips, kissing him equally hard- which was quite hard for a slayer. She found them tumbling backward, falling, catching, and falling again until they landed cockeyed on the bed, her on top of him.

"All that just to get me into bed." Spike gave her a saucy grin, flicking his tongue over her lips as they left his with a startled cry.

"No! I mean- you need to eat. We're totally going to keep blood in the fridge from now on. And at Giles'. I guess I'll tell Mom. Not about the biting, okay? She just won't get it."

Spike blinked up at her. "Tell Joyce?"

"Mhm."

"Tell her what?"

"Well… I'm going to tell her we've gotten to be friends and you're helping me fight off a- a curse Dracula put on me. It would make sense that I might need you here a lot and that you need to have snacks here. I'll work up to the- to the -" she swallowed hard, "boyfriend. I'm sorry. I know kindred is so much more. Mom's not so great with all the Slayer stuff, as you know. That'll have to work."

"But- Finn?"

"He's important to me as a person. It's important for me to treat him better than he treated me. I know the sex stuff isn't fair to him. It's cheating, even if it didn't start out that way, even if at first it started off as some sort of weird physical reaction to adrenaline and…" she trailed off, cheeks aflame.

"Pleasure. The hunger. Someone in your system, figuratively, if not literally," he purred, trying to dampen the suggestion in his voice, and failing.

She cleared her throat and told her nether regions to put the sudden pulsing feelings on hold. "In my heart-" Buffy took a shaky breath, "I let him go yesterday, but he'd been sliding out of it for weeks. I can't fully tell him what's in my heart, because of what's happening to his."

He didn't breathe, but the air he released sounded equally tremulous. "Wanna know something?"

"Sure," Buffy said in a slightly surprised voice.

"Until I met you- Dru never regretted pickin' me. She chose me, you know. Handpicked me out of an alley in London, sobbin' my eyes out- tell you about that later, if you want to know."

"Okay," Buffy said in a gentle voice that she seldom got to use. Not a warrior pushing someone through something scary. One warrior listening to another, because they did that, and gentle because it was safe to be that way with him. Not going to hurt her- because he was now in some odd way like a part of her. "Later. If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"Just tryin' to say," he took a pause and tucked her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him, "over a hundred years, and she would leave me sometimes, miss Angelus, hurt me- but she never _regretted_ me. Not until I met you, sided with you against him. I'm a- I'm evil an' all that, but I'm a solid choice if you want someone faithful. Lovin'. I could be…" he paused, collected his thoughts with a temerity he wished he didn't feel. "I know Finn was all sorts of 'solid' and 'reliable.' Normal. I know I'm different, but-"

"I want different! I want you."

He put a hand on either of her hips and held her more firmly in place. In seconds, he could feel the heat sinking into him. _Wants me in a few ways, apparently._ He pushed himself up on his elbows. "Want you, too." The timid feelings fled.

She leaned down and kissed him, loving the way he smiled as their lips separated. "You really took good care of her. You … take good care of me. I don't need some guy to ride in and solve all my problems, but someone who looks out for me is nice. I know you know the difference. I'm not so sure 'normal guy' gets it. Not so sure Angel even gets it."

"I get the prize, Luv." He traced his hand over her face, bit his lip to remind himself not to get carried away, but couldn't resist letting his fingertip barely brush over the marks he left on her. He reveled in the way her eyes instantly fluttered shut, a look that was usually accompanied by a moan. But he didn't want moans.

She opened her eyes, looked down and shifted off of him, sliding to lay against him, side by side. "I picked you because I thought it was the best choice. I had no idea how right I was going to be."

His heart swelled up, stupidly happy, foolishly happy, and the nagging fear that this was only because of the bond they'd acted out drifted away. Drac was bloody powerful in terms of putting a hold on someone, and the fact that he'd gotten someone so strong as Slayer tied in a knot was proof of that. An' the girl hated him. Hated the bond, no love for the charismatic shapeshifter at all. "Tell me one more time?"

"Only if you're going to say it back."

"Always." _And that's a problem. I'll never get out of this with my heart in one piece. An' I guess that's the way I've always wanted it. The blood screaming inside to hold onto her, the link so deep it can't be severed without taking part of me with it. _"Always, Baby."

Buffy waited for the sting of fear to hit her. _ Hm. Where'd it go?_ "I love you."

"I love you, too. My beautiful beloved."

"Kindred of mine."

No shocks. No stings. No fear seeping in. Warmth and fullness, something deeper than normal affection.

"Where do those words come from?" Buffy watched him roll on top of her. He ran his palms down her cheeks, over her shoulders, and slid them under her back, pressing her close.

"I have no bloody idea," Spike lost the sweet tone of voice, replaced with a hard, challenging edge. It gave way to a bemused chuckle. "I've been wonderin' that, too. Only thing I can think of is- it's in the blood. It's in the act of bonding. Like when I do this." He moved his hips into hers, and felt her own body open to receive him, even though they were fully clothed. "Like an instinct."

"Giles said it was- was a cure of the primordial, magics, life, death, blood."

"All the big ones. Left out the other way that two become one." Another shift, and she dragged her hands down his back, tugging up the shirt he'd only put on an hour or so ago. "He's probably afraid I'm- No. He asked me if I was takin' advantage and I swore to him I wasn't. Would never."

"He believed you. I could tell by how he talked about you." Buffy worried the shirt up over his head.

"Slayer, Luv, what are you doing? You came up here to get dressed, not undress me. Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, to get into a new outfit, I have to get out of my current outfit first, so… it seemed like a good idea at the time. Want me to stop?" she teased.

"Bite your tongue, woman!"

"I'd rather bite you." She possessively ran her fingertips over his scar, wishing she could obliterate the one that had turned him, replace it with one of her own.

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Almost all of you," Buffy replied with more easy confidence than she'd ever felt with a lover. _Spike loves me. He won't hurt me. We don't want to hurt each other. I want him. I want all of him, and I don't want to wait. _

"Baby?" He read something in her bearing, a shift in her gaze, a hungry look that he was getting used to feeding. "What does my girl want?"

"You. Inside. Now. All of you, inside all of me." _Like a need. Like a burn that needs that touch of ice to dampen it down._

"I- Fuck, of course I want to do that, but you said you wanted to wait a bit longer."

"I wanted to wait for a couple of reasons. But I- I know to tell Riley in the brutally blunt way that he can't ignore, that I have to wait until after surgery. And even then, I think I have to let him down easy, Spike."

"I waited for months for Dru sometimes. I can wait a bit for you."

_The other one tells me to wait. Wait to get healed. This one waits, so I won't get hurt. _"I really do love you, you know that?"

"I'm believin' it more every minute. So- tomorrow night, is your mum still out of town?"

"Mhm."

"We could… make it special?" His heart was still. It couldn't be beating like that. Fast and hard, excited. No, it was hers, all pressed to his chest, banging about on her ribs and reverberating into the stillness under his that was by no means empty. "Shit, Luv, your heartbeat's back up again."

"That's because of what you- what you said." _Of how I think of it._ Her cheeks were hot, all of her was turning a sunburnt shade of pink. _Shouldn't think it'll be so special, he just means we'll -_

He cut off her thoughts, words coming out from that poet's soul that he was supposed to have parted with. "Bridal bed, Luv? We made our vows. I-" Realizing what he'd said, his eyes widened and he winced, waiting for her squawk of rejection.

"Really?"

"Sorry. I know it's not-"

"I thought that, too! Honest. I felt like…" Buffy paused. _You can tell him. You can tell Spike. He already knows. _She tilted her head. "I thought of it like the first time. All over again, but I also thought of it like- a - wedding night. Please don't freak!"

"Why would I? I said bridal bed. You said wedding night." Spike suddenly sat up, looking pissed off. "It's the effing bond!"

Buffy tried to hide a crestfallen look. _So much for feeling like it was all safe. _

"No, Buffy, not- not the bond between us bein' a bad thing. The words. The linked up thoughts. Your heartbeat finally reaching normal and no dreams of him last night after you went to sleep the second time. I-uh, well, I said something."

"What? What did you say? When?"

"After you fell asleep. I don't know how I know the words. That 'primordial' instinct, I guess. I put my hand on your head and said I challenged any bond or claim another has. I said I gave you my protection though you don't need it, said I claimed your strength for myself and would give you all of mine. Vamps can make a claim, but you're human. I pledged myself to you. An' you already as good as marked me and claimed me, best as a human can. Pet, I think I outdid Drac. He didn't offer himself to you as equal. He took you- he didn't give himself to you in return, no matter what words you repeated."

Buffy whispered, "Equal."

"Oh hell!" Spike put his arm around her as her eyes suddenly overflowed. "Slayer, I didn't wait until you were asleep on purpose! I was just worried after watchin' you suffer from that bastard attackin' your brain. I thought I-"

"You said _equal_. You gave me _you_." Buffy sniffed in hard and looked at his confused, tight face. "Happy tears, idiot!" She poked his ribs hard and made him frown, then laugh. "You did that for me? You don't have to. You didn't have to!" _That is so much beyond this original "business agreement." _

"I wanted to. I thought that's how bein' in love is s'posed to go." _Never quite happened, but a bloke can dream, can't he?_

Soaring. Her heart had wings. That had never happened. With Angel, her heart had intense, deep, painful love. Riley had a sweet, sincere feeling of care- and it had ebbed away as he had damaged it with unthinking, selfish acts.

_He wants me. But, even better, he wants me to have him. We belong together, a set, a match, light and dark, doing good with whatever we have in us. He wants me. He wants to give himself to me._ "A gift given in love." Her voice was wondering.

His was carefully casual, topped off with a shrug. "Mr. Tabloid doesn't claim to love you. Claims to love what's _in_ you."

"You're different. You're special." Tomorrow night would be special, too. "Tomorrow night. Vows?"

"Private ceremony?"

"You won't tease me if I think it's some super big deal?"

"I feel the same. I won't tease you- more than I already do. C'mon now, if I wasn't my usual snarky self you wouldn't be with the man you love.".

"Hmm. I think even your annoying sense of humor has grown on me. _Slightly_."

He hesitated before putting his neck out. "Slayer? You wanna -" he stopped. _You're not human. You're not really doing anything but making love a bit more thoroughly. Shouldn't get so worked up. Shouldn't make it such a grand event._

_ The hell, you say. _

"What?" Buffy prodded.

He took her hand, trying to get his uncertain tongue to move. Words had so often failed him. All his pleading had been in vain sometimes, and his poems were crumpled masses, altars to his folly. "Hard to say some things."

She squeezed back. "We do hard."

He heard the faint challenge in her voice. "Harder."

She slid around him easily, straddling his lap once more and looking into his eyes. "Harder. Harder is breaking a hold that the legend put in place. Harder was doing it in record time, and finding the thing that heals me and helps me, not just with this, but with my whole life. Spike, I know you can do more than hard. More than harder. You can do the _hardest_ things."

_She believes in me. That I can do it. _"I love you, an' I know every time I say it, I dig myself in deeper, and maybe I should be more careful. But you make me brave in all the ways that hurt, Slayer."

"Yeah? It's mutual. I haven't told anyone I loved them since Angel. Not even Riley. I'll say it in a friend way to Willow and Xander, or like family to Mom. Not a soulmate way. Oh." _Soulmate. Doesn't really work here._

"Yeah. Missin' mine. But- Baby, you think maybe since we're sharin' hearts and thoughts and stuff, I could borrow a little bit of yours?"

_That's right. Bound. Inside each other. He in me and me in he. "_Maybe you already have it. You gave yourself to me. I can give me to you."

He abandoned words to kiss her. And kiss her harder, and harder, until they were panting, tangling wrecks who were trying to remember that they were supposed to be stopping for one very special reason. That tomorrow night would be more than just another act between two lovers, it would be an act that cemented something. The human world and the vampire world might not see eye to eye on what it meant, but to them, the ones forging this bond, it had a depth, a significance they were afraid to discuss.

_Tomorrow night, she is my bride. Mate. Life partner. Beyond life. _

_ Tomorrow night… well, I thought that day might never come. Should have known it wouldn't be a wedding day. There's a wedding night. In all kinds of ways..._

They held suddenly still. Hands laced slowly on his torso, fingers locked down tightly.

"I can't wait until tomorrow. I mean, yes, I will wait, but most of me doesn't want to. The little part that hears the voices and knows the words thinks it's wise, and it's also being really, really pushy," Buffy rested her forehead to his, bitten, swollen lips still taking time to brush his. "Hm. Pushy. Must be from you."

"Ha, Slayer. I can _taste_ the stubborn in you," he laughed softly against her. Miracle of miracles, they were able to laugh at each other. With each other._ God, she makes me happy. _He sat up, sitting her with him, astride his lap.

Buffy smiled into his eyes and crossed her arms contentedly behind his head. _I thought this would hurt, lead me to the dark places, the painful places, all blood and death. That's just a piece of me. He makes me whole. He even makes me… happy. _

Spike interrupted the quiet moment. "I don't know how to ask you this."

She froze. _Ask? Like propose?_

Her mind went numb. She wouldn't say no. And that scared her. And thrilled her. But it was too fast. The touch of normal girl balked. The bonded part of her was like, "What's the big deal? You know that the bite thing is more permanent, right? Any joker can get hitched in Vegas and get unhitched by a bored lawyer and a judge the next day."

"Ask?" her voice was a shadow.

"I don't have a lot put by right now, but I have a few quid. You wanna get a room somewhere tomorrow night?"

Her eyes were confused. "What?" _Not what I was expecting._

"Shit! Slayer, you told me to do the hard thing! The hard thing was the stupid thing!"

"No, Spike, I-"

"I didn't mean a dirty weekend in a cheap motel, you know? I wouldn't do it like that! I mean, yeah, I would sometimes, for fun, but not tomorrow. Special, we said. I thought maybe you'd want a place different from your own house, definitely not my crypt. Place with a- with a big bed and a pretty view. Place they wouldn't find us." _Would hear me makin' you mine. Hear you open up for me the first time, hear me roaring and cursing in you, to finally feel what it's like to be in you. To hear you breathing, heaving under me, eyes wide and fingers diggin' in on every thrust- _"Fuck, Buffy, I can't even think properly."

"Big bed and pretty view?" she answered dreamily.

"Mhm." He settled for words he could grunt with his lips shut. Stopped the drool.

"Take me away from the Hellmouth?"

"Bad idea?" His tone was quizzical.

"No. Why do we need to go?"

"We don't need to. Want to. Want to treat you like the gift you are," he said simply.

"Then it's not bad at all. Perfect."

"Take my car?"

"Not too far away?"

"Barely out of town. One of the beachfront places outside of Sunnydale."

"Just for one night."

"This time. Longer later. When this is all sorted. If you still want me."

"I will always want you." _And tomorrow night, I get to show him._ "I have to go shopping," Buffy said abruptly. She kissed him hard, backed off of his lap and marched to her closet, throwing off her sundress and pulling on black tank top and long skirt.

"Can I use your phone?" Spike watched her throwing things in a small brown suitcase. Candles. Stake. Bra. Knickers. Sleeveless shirt with high neck. _Must remember to bring her scarf this evenin'_. The black silk one that suited her, the one he'd offered that first night. With a jolt he'd realized it no longer belonged to Dru, it was hers. Just like him.

"Who you gonna call?" Buffy asked as she moved to her bureau.

They exchanged a look. Spike coughed once. "The hotels, Pet. Find us a room."

"That movie has _so_ much to answer for."

"No kidding."

* * *

He retrieved the phone book from the kitchen. Still hadn't had blood in any great quantity, but found himself curiously full. He was shirtless, but wearing the pendant from the wiccas. He idly toyed with it while he tried to recall the name of the little town to the north of Sunnydale. He flipped a few pages. The phone rang beside him and he absently picked it up- then froze.

_Shit. What if it's Finn?_

"Buffy?" Joyce's voice inquired.

Spike let out a sigh of relief and put on his best "English gentleman" voice. "Hello, Summers' Residence."

"Spike?" Joyce's tone went from puzzled to wary. "Let me speak to my daughter, now! What are you doing in my home? Are you- is she-"

"Good morning, Joyce. Buffy's fine! Swear to it. Lemme get her for you. I uh-helped her take out this big slimy demon last night. She was kind enough to let me use your washer. Thing reeked to high heaven and' my crypt doesn't have laundry facilities. Could hardly take it into the local laundromat, not all covered in demonic slime."

Joyce knew she should have far more reservations. But Spike always talked to her so affably that it dulled the panic some. He was a vampire, yet an oddly personable one. "I see. Buffy? Now, please."

"Slayer! It's your mum! She's on the phone!" Spike hollered up the stairs. "Give her a moment, Joyce, I'm in the kitchen and she's upstairs. Heard your old college mate had a showin'. How is it going? Good turnout?"

"Oh, the local press made a big deal! Mallory- that's my friend- found out last night that someone from DeMarco's in New York came to see her work! He's coming back today. I think this could be big for her. If he takes a few pieces-"

"An' if you could bring a few pieces out here-"

"That's what I was thinking! To be on the same level of inventory as DeMarco's in-"

"Mom? Spike! Hang up the phone!"

"Buffy! Spike and I were talking about Mallory's showing!"

"Joyce, sounds like a potential goldmine! All success, ducks. I'll ring off for now."

"He's - such an unusual man, isn't he?" Joyce mused once she heard the click and Buffy's impatient sigh.

"Yes, he totally is. And he so_ shouldn't be answering the phone in my house_!" Buffy called pointedly down the stairs.

Downstairs he growled, low and huffy. "Bint." Instantly, he felt unsettled. _Shouldn't talk about her like that. _

_Yes, I should. She is. Sometimes. I don't mind it. Was just tryin' to be helpful. But what if it had been Captain Cardboard, hm? Or Angel? _

_Think good thoughts._ Good thoughts, like little out of the way places where he and his girl could slip away, where no one would reach them.

* * *

"Spike used our washing machine?"

"Huge, stinky, slimy demon. Spike helped. Besides, my clothes were equally disgusting, so I was going to do a load of laundry anyway."

"I suppose that was an unusual circumstance." Joyce smiled slightly. Oh, how poorly "unusual" described her daughter's life and some of the people in it.

"Well, actually… Not entirely unusual these days. Spike has been helping me a lot this week. He can't hurt humans, Mom."

"You mentioned that. Riley did that to him, right? He made him safe?"

Buffy felt irritation rankle. "Yes, the Initiative chipped him. But that doesn't mean a demon is safe- that's- that's a choice. Spike and I have been talking a lot. Giles', too. Um. Spike's going to help patrol sometimes."

Joyce heard herself release a sigh. A relieved one. "That's good."

Buffy examined the phone like it had started singing showtunes in her ear. "Mom? Is that you?"

"Well, Spike is a vampire! He won't get hurt like you or Riley, or Willow and Xander. Even hitting him with an axe on the head wasn't fatal. You can't say that about a human. Although, I'm surprised Riley went along with this."

"He doesn't know, exactly. Mom… Riley's in the hospital. He has heart damage from some- um- meds he was on during his time in the Initiative. He's having surgery first thing in the morning. I can't be with him, the location is classified."

"Oh, Buffy! Are you holding up, okay? Should I come home early?"

"No!" Buffy yelped. "No, Mom, there's nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. And… there's something else I think you should know."

"This isn't good, is it?" Joyce sat down on the guest room's bed, phone pressed worriedly to her cheek.

"It's not good. But, I'm not too upset. I know you will be."

She closed her eyes. What could be worse than knowing her daughter had died, runaway, and faced an apocalypse? "Just tell me."

"I told Riley we need time apart. He didn't get it. I told him we'd changed. We've been having problems off and on- and I- I never talked to you about it before. Lately, it's more problems than not. I don't want to push it right now because he's sick. But he's not the right guy for me after all. I'm sorry, Mom. I know you really liked him."

Joyce let out a rush of air, another wave of relief. As far as problems went- this was a normal one, one she, a middle-aged single mom might have a shot at helping her child with. A break up. A normal "we didn't click" break up. "That's it? You're going to break up with Riley because he's not right for you?"

Buffy gave the phone another scathing look. Was this phone connected to an alternate dimension? One where her mother was slightly more relaxed and way more willing to listen before flipping and blaming? "Um. Yes?"

"Well, Sweetie, he's a very nice boy, but remember, I only met him about three months ago. I didn't even know you were dating him for the first few months you were together! I know lots of girls find 'the one' in college, but I certainly didn't_ expect _him to be that one. That's not what I mean. I'm trying to say that I didn't expect you to only have one serious boyfriend before settling down or something."

"Okay," Buffy replied, stunned thought lines appearing on her brow.

"What happened between you two? Did he- was there someone else? Did he hurt you?"

"No! He's not- he's not hurting me _directly_. He's interfering in some slaying stuff. To put it in the worst way possible, but to be uber direct, Riley is too worried about what he thinks I _should_ do to let me do what I _need_ to do. Including big stuff. Stuff that is going to kill me if I don't handle it. He wants me to wait for him to make a move, like I can't deal with things on my own, even though he wasn't even in my life months ago. Not handling it is just making me worse. He doesn't get it. He doesn't get_ me_. I like him, but I don't love him. I don't want to keep dating him and making him think that I'm okay with that. I can't be. Can't live like that. He couldn't live with me like that, either. I tried to tell him, but I didn't make him understand. Not yet."

"Because of his heart?" Joyce heard the note of self-reproach in her daughter's voice, right along with frustration and pain.

"Surgery in the morning. It's pretty serious. Like, he could die. We both have serious stuff, Mom. I know I should tell him, but if I made him worse… Well, that's what he's doing to me, and I hate that. I want to be the bigger person." _By breaking up with him? While falling in love with a vampire that he hates? _"It sounds wrong. I don't care. If I have to stay with him to be right, but I'm getting weaker and more miserable, then I don't care. I just won't _be_ right."

"Honey, I don't understand why you're so worked up about this. No, not about the risks he's somehow causing. I don't understand why you're worried about telling me. I know it's a break up. They happen, even to very sweet, nice couples." Joyce's calm tone suddenly became panic-stricken. "It's not because you're dating that Angel again, is it?"

"No! So over him."

_Over Angel? That's an unexpected and entirely welcome relief! _"You're not pregnant?"

"Nope. We haven't been - well, let's just say that I'm abstaining from anything that could cause children." _Because vampire sex doesn't produce babies_.

"I understand it's hard and it'll hurt, but I want you to be happy. With someone who won't hurt you or make you… weak, did you say? How is he-"

"That's a very long, complicated story. Spike's helping me fix the problem though, okay?"

"That's nice of him. He's a very unusual vampire." Joyce blinked. She'd said that twice in one brief phone conversation. Brief, but important.

Buffy had realized that as well. "You said that."

"It bears repeating. He's really safe, Buffy?"

"I trust him with my life."

Joyce paused, mouth open. It shut quietly. Something felt very wrong about that phrase, but she couldn't quite work out what would be so terrible. Spike was a vampire that couldn't hurt humans, so she supposed… "You do?"

"Yes. He saved my life last night, Mom. I don't know if I'd be talking to you this morning if he- if he hadn't been with me last night."

Joyce paced in a tight line in front of her bed. "What happened? No! Don't tell me. That slimy demon?"

Buffy hesitated.

"Was it another vampire?"

"Yes." Buffy hesitated yet again. She never liked sounding weak in front of her mom, because that might scare her, worry her that slaying was too hard for her only daughter to handle. But, if she could get her mom to understand just how vital Spike was… "The other vampire- it was pretty bad, Mom. Spike dove right in. Saved me. Picked me up and… you never know how wonderful someone is until you see how kindly they can treat you when you're helpless. He's more than a helper. He's become a surprisingly good friend, the kind who really listens to me. Spike's my hero." _I don't _need _one. But it's nice to have one anyway. Best of all, I'm pretty sure that I'm his, too._

* * *

Spike paused halfway up the stairs, where he'd stealthily been heading up to check on her. _Spike's my hero. _He stopped and sat, basking in the sudden glow her words created. _The Slayer thinks of me as her hero. Which is sorta fittin' init? Seein' as she's one of mine._

* * *

Joyce's maternal tones were heading toward shrill. "Oh, Buffy! Be careful. Thank God Spike was there! That's a very strange thing to think. Or say. Buffy, are you sure he wasn't just-"

"He didn't get anything out of it, except that I wouldn't hurt him. I wouldn't hurt him anyway. I think he's going to be one of the Scoobies now, Mom."

Out on the stairs, Spike groaned. The warm glow flickered out as he put his head in his hands. The indignity.

"Can we keep some blood in the fridge for when he visits?"

"_Human _blood?" Joyce sounded horrified.

"No! Cows and pigs. Sheep and goats for all I know."

"I suppose that's okay."

"You're the best. I love you, Mom. I guess I should get going, huh? I need to do some slaying-related stuff, stuff it'd be better to do before classes start."

"Honey, take care of yourself. And yes, I understand that you need to get going. I know you have all these good things to say about Spike right now, but remember, he's not human."

Buffy paused. _Am I? All the way? _

_I don't know. _

_I don't know if I care. I'm human enough. _

_Maybe he is, too._ "He's human enough, Mom. He's not demon owned. He's a man with a monster-y center. He can use it for good."

Joyce made several shocked burbles that didn't make concrete phrases.

"It's a shock, huh? Don't worry. You'll see. Love you, Mom."

Inarticulate cries gave way to one puzzled-sounding, "Love you, too."

"Bye, Mom."

Buffy shakily put the last few items she wanted in her bag- aside from one or two particular things she wanted to buy for their night away. She hoped the phone wouldn't ring, her irate or bewildered mother calling back.

She fairly fled her room, stopping short with a gasp when she saw Spike sitting on the middle of the staircase, looking over his shoulder at her, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"I'm not a soddin' Scooby."

"I know. You're the partner. But I have to put things in Mom-speak. She understood that and didn't wig. Well, not much," Buffy answered as she picked her way down the steps.

"So that bit about me being a hero?"

"No. That's true, and easy to understand. Maybe not easy to believe, but definitely clear."

"What about the man with the monster-y center?"

"That was Mom-speak, at least partly. I know you're a vampire. I don't think you're suddenly some normal human. I just know that your demon qualities aren't being used for evil, and to me that means you're not demon-owned, just like you said."

"Miracle. You listened to me," Spike teased and caught her as she sat in his lap. "What should we do today after I make my phone call?"

"You go home. Drink up. You're going to need all the energy you can get," Buffy evaded his lips with an effort, wriggling away from him.

"An' you?"

"Shopping."

"I can't come with you?" Spike said the words too quickly, then glared at her. "I told you, you messed me up. Clingy." Or it could be the idea of slipping into the dressing room with her, watching her shed outfit after outfit, taking advantage of all those moments of bare skin and three-fold mirrors, and conveniently placed hooks and benches…

Buffy gasped as Spike slid after her, landing at the bottom of the stairs, cutting her off with a slam of his black boots to the floor. "Spike!"

"I've decided I like clingy. C'mon, Baby, let's go buy you somethin' pretty. Be my model?"

No…" Buffy pecked his lips and slipped through his arms, only to spin and catch him as he went after her, pressing his back to the wall, making pictures rattle. "I'm buying something special. I want it to stay a surprise- at least until tomorrow night, and then I'll model all you want."

Lust surged up- and ebbed out. _Tomorrow night. Special. Vows. _"You're sure?"

"I know what Drusilla did to you. I know I'm doing the same thing, in a way. Are you sure about- about me?" Buffy suddenly whispered. She had heaped hate and blame on herself for years, and now, sometimes she just accepted them as part of her, sometimes she tried to push them down. They'd been playing hide and seek with her for so long. Bad for killing Angel. Bad for not saving everyone she wanted to save. Bad for letting her mother down, somehow driving her father away, for not keeping Faith on the path of good-guy living… Bad for not being happy with Mr. Normal.

Spike was evil and a demon. _It shouldn't matter what he thinks. And what kind of moral yardstick is he, anyway?_

_One I actually care about. Because if there's one thing he proved- it's that he knows love. He loves unselfishly. He's good at love. Before him- was I? I think I tried to be. I think I was. But it's hard when the one you give that love to hurts you, lets you down, disappears... _

"Listen to me, Luv. Even at my worst, I know you for what you are. You're what good is. But sometimes you're not going to be perfect. Humans aren't. You're doin' something right for you, for us. D'you think Finn is perfect? Has he been treatin' you right?"

"It's not about that."

"It's about you wantin' to be the hero. To save everyone, even the one who's givin' you grief, not protectin' you, even though that's all he thinks he's doing. Things will end with him, you're not keepin' him on a string for months on end. You'll end it with him as soon as you know he's going to survive it, an' that's more mercy that I'd have for that jackass."

Her lips twitched in a smile, but his voice continued without a trace of playfulness. "But keep me out of it or he's going to blame me and say that you're one of those weak women doesn't know her own mind. When the truth is, you're the strongest woman I have ever met. You're strong enough to look up and say 'I don't like what you do to me.' An' I know you don't need someone like me to-"

"Someone like you is who I love. I care about what you think."

"If I wasn't dead, I'd have died of shock." He smiled slightly. "I'm a bad man. Wrong 'un, you know that."

"We're the same. Same darkness, differently distilled."

"I'm demon. You just took its strength. Little metaphysical organ-graft." He brushed a hand across her cheek. "I think you're doing the right thing, as best you can in a bloody rotten game that you had no choice in playin'." Spike sighed. This would sting a bit. _But what's love without a little reminder of all the shit you're tradin' in for it, for the best thing ever? _"I'll be tryin' to do the right thing these days- as long you'll give me a hand with it."

"You have my hands. You have all of me." Buffy put her fingers through his.

Forever? He heard a ghost whisper in his brain, but his lips sealed.

Eternally. Her eyes flickered nervously as she refused to speak a sudden unbidden phrase that entered her mind.

"Tomorrow night," Spike reassured her._ Tomorrow night there'll be vows. And pledges. Blood, life, and death… and that last little bit. _

"I- I have to go to the mall." _For once, I would rather stay home._

"Blood. Pick up that order Rupert's set up."

"I'll miss you when you're away," Buffy confessed, although she wished she could keep those mushy thoughts in. He claimed to be feeling clingy? Ha! The thought of hours apart was enough to make her feel near to tears.

"Research at the Watchers' tonight. It won't be long. Or, I can be back in a few hours if you want," he suggested casually, as if it didn't matter.

"I'll come over to your place," Buffy hastily suggested. She'd put her new purchases away, she'd remove the temptation to show them off early, or to bring him here and let him "accidentally on purpose" discover them.

_Yeah, right. Temptation equals Spike. There's so much awesome we can do anywhere. _"A few hours?"

"See you soon, Slayer." He leaned in and kissed her. "Love you."

"Love you. See you soon."

* * *

Author's End Note:

_**Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon. I just released a new erotica piece that is definitely more smutty but still sweet, I hope you'll check it out. It's called "Vampire in Vegas" by S.C. Principale. (free with Kindle Unlimited or. 99). I appreciate all the love and support for both my fan fic and published work! Thanks, friends!**_


	16. Part XVI

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all..._

_Dedicated to: __Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, and the kind guest reviewers._

**Part XVI **

The afternoon was spent curled up on his bed, finding new places to explore, new ways to enjoy.

"I'm gonna make you feel so much better, later," Spike hissed in pleasure, just watching her. She was arching down, breasts to rumpled sheets, hips up, legs open, parted around his hand. His fingers dove and pounded, splitting her as his other hand took turns between wrapping around himself and wrapping around her sweet cheeks.

"This … feels… pretty good now!" Buffy collapsed, knees sliding out as she came.

Doesn't miss a beat, Spike thought in a haze as she turned onto her back, yanked him forward, and they reversed, him supine and her having the power over his pleasure. She sank her mouth over him, but kept his hands busy, twined with hers. When he thought he would lose himself in her sweet, glorious softness, her loving, lapping tongue- she would dart up like lightning, biting him and nipping him at his bite, then on the other side of his neck as if she was marking him for herself, and a dozen places where little red welts started to bloom and fade by the time she did it again.

"Where- the hell - did you learn to make love to a vamp?" Spike asked, eyes shuddering closed as he felt the moment coming, that blissful, near-painful second where he would erupt in spite of any intentions to the contrary.

Buffy paused and looked at him, running her tongue over her slightly swollen lips. She leaned over him as if to embrace him with her mouth once more, and instead rubbed him to the feverish place where he'd bitten her, licking him slowly and then rubbing him from the bite, over her chest, over one breast. "Only from you. From instinct," she purred as he exploded with a high-pitched curse. She laughed gently, pleased with herself, with him. _We're so good together._

She's perfect for me, Spike thought it a haze.

"I didn't learn to make love to a vamp. I learned to make love to _you_." Buffy smiled.

* * *

"You brought Spike?" Giles held open the door and watched Buffy slide inside, hand firmly entrenched in the vampire's.

"I'm going to help research. We have to switch tactics. We're endin' the soddin' hold, now how do we end_ him_?" Spike pushed through as if he owned the place, then paused. "Mind if I use your microwave?" he asked in the most civil voice Giles had ever heard issue from his lips.

"Of course," he was startled into replying with equal politeness.

"And I really, really want to get some kind of a timeframe on his royal pain in my ass-ness. Does he do the obsessive broody thing where he's going to stalk me? Try to get me back? Get revenge?" Buffy flopped down on the couch, head tipped back in exhaustion.

Giles yelped as he saw the exposed, obvious bite. "Buffy! Your neck!"

"Oh, come on! You knew he was-"

"You're not covering it up!" Giles hissed.

"Your scarf, Luv!" Spike called.

"It's in your coat pocket!"

Giles swiveled his head as if watching a tennis match. The affectionate, easy resonance in their voices was making his eyes narrow worriedly. The microwave beeped in the kitchen and Spike remerged, a black silk scarf held in one hand, a mug of blood in the other.

"The guys are going to think it's weird," Buffy huffed as she draped the silk lovingly across her throat and then undid her hair and smoothed down over her shoulders.

"You look gorgeous. No one'll question that. It's your usual look." Spike winked. "Tell her, Rupes. She looks a treat in that."

Giles looked at the white sleeveless shirt and black gauzy overshirt, now topped off with the scarf. "Why, yes. Uh- that is- yes. You look lovely."

"What did you hear from the Council?" Buffy abandoned worrying about her appearance and scooted to the left side of the couch, making room for Spike to join her.

"Ah." Giles rose and paced. "They're coming over."

'Who?"

"The Council."

"What, all of 'em?" Spike looked as if he were about to bolt. "Hell, that'll be a delegation for the ages. Los Angeles International will be drownin' in tweed."

"Do shut up. No, not all of them. But- Travers himself and a few of his select little yes-men, I should imagine."

"_Why_? Oh my God! They're not bringing a vampire with them to 'fix' me, are they? Because I'm pretty sure I'm fixed. 99% fixed, and in a few days, I bet it'll be even better!" Buffy babbled. "I'm going to kill that vamp. I'm going to kill the vamp that started this whole damn mess. Spike!"

"What, Slayer?"

"I- I need to kill something!"

"Well, don't look at me!"

"After this- so much patrol. You in?"

He looked at her frustrated face- and detected a little smirk underneath it. _Ah. Another excuse for the sake of the delicate Watcher's ears- who already probably has a guess at what's happenin'. _"In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well tag along and finish up some business with you before we split up."

"Patrol must come second. I think we've narrowed the field of our research. Has Dracula ever willingly broken a hold, not on one of his brides, one that he didn't successfully - well-"

"One he didn't bed and turn, or turn and bed as the case more likely is?" Spike snorted. "All right, what else?"

"How to keep him in place. How to kill him in a permanent manner." Giles raised a second and third finger. "Buffy had a very good point earlier. Dracula disappears without warning, unlike other vampires. This is believed to be due to magic use, magic use that he's had over five centuries to practice."

"Willow's a crazy good wicca. Maybe she could-"

"Not alone, but we have a triad. Actually… we have four corners."

"Say what?" Buffy looked puzzled.

Spike looked knowing, satisfied. "Ah, Demon Gal. That's right, she was a witch in her human days, wasn't she?"

"Back to 'say what?' Anya?"

"A triad is an extremely strong force in the magical world. Tara and Willow are powerful wiccas. Not to brag, but over the years, I've learned a bit and-"

"You rock the dusty spellbooks?" Buffy grinned.

"I am a weaker leg, but still a third. However, in magics, a calling circle of four, known as 'four corners', is incredibly powerful. D'Hoffryn noticed Anya's great powers as a witch, offering to make her one of the lower beings, the same with Willow. We can assume that at least initially they were near the same level of magic. Anya is rusty, but not weak. I think we…" Giles turned abruptly and went to a leather satchel on the back of his desk chair, "can find something useful- in this." He pulled out a book bound in cracking black reptilian skin.

Spike let out a low whistle. "Where the hell'd you find that, Rupes?"

Giles coughed. "Hm. I had- a friend of a friend of an enemy dig it up for me." He set it aside.

Buffy gave her Watcher a long look. His eyes were underscored by dark patches. His hair looked grayer than just a few days ago, and he had his silver stud in one lobe. _Giles is exhausted. He let Ripper come to the party._ "I'm sorry you have to go through this with me," she whispered.

"I wouldn't have you go through it without me." He smiled in return. "Now then… the Council. Nothing new to share. Travers shall descend upon us-"

"Like a plague of tight-assed locusts," Spike muttered, flipping through the book of dark magic.

"Have we heard any more from Angel?" Buffy asked.

Spike slammed the book with a hiss, eyes suddenly yellow.

"What?" Buffy rushed to his side, ignoring the startled look Giles sent after her.

Spike turned from her, forcing himself back to calm and collected. _No good to act like the controlling, possessive wanker Finn turned out to be, or that Angelus could be, and certainly not the king of possessive, Drac himself. Gotta keep up appearances in front of the Watcher, all her little mates who'll probably burst in any second._

Buffy turned with him, hands on his elbows, peering up at him. "Spike?"

"No, Luv, nothing. Just uh- some powerful spells in there. Just the old bloodlust, y'know?" he remarked with a shrug.

Buffy squinted at him. _No. Not that_. "Well, bloodlust is good, when it comes to killing Dracula, so I guess you'd better keep it handy. We need a little bit of dark with our good sometimes, right, Giles?"

"Hm? Oh, uh- yes. Yes, in this case."

Spike waited for her to step back to the other man in the room, but she didn't. She slid close to his chest, back to him, close enough to touch, for him to feel her heat, for him to find his nostrils flaring and his ears perking at the scent of her and the rush of blood. _Blood that's mine. Woman that's mine. Kindred. _

_Want to leave now. Want to mark her up again, all kinds of ways, in so many places, so no one else'll ever think she's theirs for the taking. _

_Which probably makes me sound like the possessing, controlling git she would hate. _

Buffy subtly shifted her hips back into his and he slid a hand to her shoulder as if to steady her. She left it there, unmoving. She turned her head over so slightly, and he read something in her eye.

Dark gleam. She ran one finger slowly over the scarf at her throat. He knew the spots she was touching. _Likes being marked, but only by me, because it's out of respect, partnership, out of love. Likes being loved. Me lovin' her and wantin' to hold onto her so bloody much'd be a problem, if she didn't want to return the favor. _

Giles watched a thirty second scene that told a tale of days and nights spent together. _Dear God… He's _loyal _to her, now. Look at that, that's pure adoration in his eyes, complete devotion. Never saw that, not even with Angel. All the love was always marred by so much self-loathing, so much of him trying to prevent himself from loving her. Spike is utterly hers._

"I did hear from Wesley and Angel today," Giles interjected.

"Hm?" Buffy didn't even turn her head at the mention of her first love.

_Oh no. She's his as well._

_But- wait. Oh no, I've set her on this path. No, Dracula did. He deserves to die three times, maybe more for good measure. _

"Giles, what did you say? Giles?"

_But if Spike would be loyal… Would be hers, and love her as his- Good Lord. Could that be something right in the midst of this hell? An equal chance to love and not be left, to not be hurt, to-_

"Rupert!" Spike and Buffy were in front of him now, and they shook him as one. "You been readin' that new book? Can mess with your head, that deep dark stuff."

"No. Ah, forgive me, lost in thought. Buffy, why don't you sit down and I'll try to fill you both in on-"

"We're not late, we're functional!" Anya loudly proclaimed as she entered the flat. "We picked up Tara and Willow. See? Multi-tasking."

"And multi-painful. Xander didn't want to be late, so he drove 'extra fast' after picking us up. Hi, Buffy. Hi, Spike," Willow greeted her friend and her friend's- helper? Assistant? Threatening threat-removal?

"Spike?" Xander sounded shocked, then thrilled. "Hey! Are you helping? That's awesome! Wait- is Riley here?"

"And straight to the horrible part of the evening. Sit, guys," Buffy hugged Xander and sat down beside him on the couch, Spike squished by the arm to appear as if he wanted to keep a safe distance.

"We told him we saw you, but- the car ride and the jaw-clenching ruined the rest of the conversation," Willow hissed, beelining for the book that was now in Giles' hands.

"Where do I start? Would you like the good news, the bad news, or the really crappy news?" Buffy sank back with a tired smile.

* * *

"Heart surgery! At his age? That's crazy. I mean, in his line of work, you'd think the demons and vamps or stray bullets would - I'm not helping, am I?"

Spike growled at Xander, who ignored him. "So Riley's definitely out?"

"Yes. I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want him."

"But you're in some weird mental state. And he's on wacky loads of meds. Couldn't that affect your thinking and decision making? Or his?"

"Mhmm. But, it shouldn't affect how he treats me. Sick or not, there are ways you treat people. You put them first. You take risks for them, risks that mean something. Riley… I don't want him. He doesn't want me to go see Angel or any other vampire. He doesn't want me to get any kind of 'cure' until he can watch my back in about a month."

"He does realize that by that time Dracula will be back to full power after your stake-fest and you'll be more fully under his control, right? You could have a hold get weaker, if the vampire stayed away, or you could have it double in strength, or worse, especially if he comes back. That's like telling a cancer patient to just wait and see what the tumor decides to do," Anya pointed out, voice rising. "Oooh! I wish I had my powers back! I would gladly give you a two-for-one special, Riley and Dracula!"

"I would take you up on it," Buffy laughed weakly. "But Spike is willing to - play ball. Help break it. We can't tell Riley though. I have to swear you to secrecy. Like- a literal swearing, some sort of secret-keeping spell would be advisable, 'cause he's going to FLIP on anyone he thinks is on the 'vampire's side', even if that's also my side."

"Ooh! Wiccan oath! We can lead a group one!"

"Sign me up as an honorary wicca. Warlock? Male witch? What's the right term?" Xander rubbed his hands together. Then he looked at Spike. "What do you get out of this?"

"Your respect."

"Not likely. But… okay, marginally likely."

"He's saving my life," Buffy pointed out.

"Which is a head scratcher."

"I've lived a long time, boy. You learn to keep you friends close and your enemies closer." Spike absently reached for Buffy's hand and she easily clasped it. "Maybe turn 'em into your friends." _If you're lucky, somethin' more. My kindred._ He wanted to pull her close, hold her tight. The pain of not doing it when she was so close made him burn and his insides twitch._ Bloody hell, she owns me now._

Buffy leaned against him casually, helping both of them deal with the physical urge to touch. "When Spike is on your side, it's a very, very good thing."

"I think the wiccan oath is easily managed. Tara, I'll leave you to arrange that?" Giles asked and she nodded eagerly. "The rest of us should begin researching. As I was about to mention earlier- several times- I do have a lead from Angel."

"Can I ask a question first?" Xander raised his hand. Giles nodded. "Do you eat fruit?" He looked at Spike.

"I eat 'people food', I'm part 'people'," Spike snarked, but then his face softened. "She told me you wanted to bring 'round a fruit basket if I helped. No need. This is not a payin' job. Doin' it to stick it to Drac and get my girl free." _Shit!_ Spike realized too late how he had referred to her.

If Xander noticed, he let it go with nothing more than a slight narrowing of the eyes. "Apples and pineapples and oranges? Standard fruit basket stuff?"

"Yeah, thanks,"

"Welcome."

Buffy impulsively leaned over to Xander and hugged him. "You're the best, you know that?"

He blinked in surprise. "Why, for not being an ass to the guy saving my best friend's life? Even if he's an evil bastard?"

"_Formerly _evil bastard. Well, the bastard bit. Well, technically-"

"Shh, Spike. We'll take light on the evil bastard-iness."

"Oooh! Spike's not evil. Not _bad_ evil! Show him your thing!" Willow flapped her hand excitedly toward Spike, who sat back and raised one eyebrow slowly, hand straying mischievously to hook in his belt.

"Didn't think that was your viewing pleasure, Red."

Buffy elbowed him, Giles took off his glasses, and Xander rolled his eyes.

"Not that! The pendant! The protection pendant!" Willow's cheeks went a few shades lighter than her hair.

"Ah, this little piece of mojo." Spike deftly lifted it out from under his collar.

"It's still whole. See, it's for the demon who uses his powers for good, to help. If he ever harms an innocent or stops helping, it'll shatter. Painfully," Willow reminded him with a quick glare.

"So, it's not just protection, it's like an early-warning evil alarm? Nifty, Wills. And Tara."

"He could just take it off," Anya pointed out.

"Not gonna. Not every bloke has a trinket from the two best witches in the world. Gonna be worth money someday." Spike winked.

"Giles, where are you going?" Buffy suddenly realized her pacing Watcher was pacing himself out the door.

"I ordered the Chinese, but at the rate I think I might as well walk to the take away myself instead of waiting for the delivery to arrive. Are you _quite_ finished? Not that it isn't important, but-"

"But you're about to blow one of your bookworm veins from holdin' in research-related news?" Spike got up and went to the Watcher's sideboard where several bottles of liquor sat, all of them open and a few of them quite low. "Get this in you, it'll help," Spike poured Giles a glass of Scotch and jerked his head to the desk.

"Thank you," Giles sighed and wearily sat back down. The center of attention once again, he decided to speak quickly. "Angel has been trying to help. Wesley as well, all of their team. Dracula has one, and _only_ one surviving 'ex-wife' of any standing. Countess Ana-Maria Elena Daniela Dracul was his bride for roughly four centuries."

"Whoa! Whoa, wait!" Buffy leaned forward, panic in her voice. Everyone else leaned forward as well, looking at her anxiously. "Dracul? His name is Dracula Dracul? Or is Dracula a nickname? What's his first name? Shouldn't he have told me that if he was going to offer me undead bliss? Also, if he won, I'd be Buffy Dracul. I just _bet_ he makes all of his turned brides take his last name, the sneaky sexist jerk! No. Just no!"

"Women's equalities and surnames aside," Giles drained his glass as everyone sat back with a groan, "the Countess is the only wife who he released without any- without any stipulations, shall we say."

"Say more. What does he usually do?"

Spike snorted. "Gives his pretties away. To favored blokes and powerful beings in his circle that he wants to impress, usually ones he turned, made his own 'sons'- but only if he has another girl waiting in the wings." He retold the heart-rending tale of the vampire bride he'd watched Dracula hand off, only to see the girl stake herself in her grief.

"Breaking a bond, one that was wanted, one that lasted for years- must be incredibly painful," Giles murmured quietly.

"Not to him. He doesn't let 'em have any power. He's the master of one-sided ownership. Oh, he'll have them use the token words to make it binding, but he'll make sure he always holds most of the power. And he always leads it, marks first. Gypsy bastard," Spike snarled.

"His brides are never disloyal, or so it would seem. But hrm- there are records of him casting them into the daylight. Very few, but-"

"So he not only breaks their hearts, he kills them? Again? God, I_ hate_ this guy!" Buffy bounced from her seat and paced. "Tell me how to make him dusty in the permanent sense already!"

For that, I believe we need the Countess. She was his longest serving wife, and records say that she grew jealous of his rotating trio of brides. It seems that Dracula had enough respect for her or admiration for her that he broke the hold and let her go willingly, without giving her to another or enforcing some other act of loyalty. Giving his brides to one of the men he turned, as Spike mentioned, makes sense. In this way, he ensures she is still related to him and in his 'family' under his control, full of family loyalty, even if more distantly removed. As for the Countess, I imagine she still has some loyalty to him. That's where Angel comes in. He's going to find her and bring her to us, or communicate with us when he has her."_ And he _will_ make her talk. Torture her if need be. I know intimately well that he can make a person talk against their will._

Spike snorted, "Tell 'im to make sure he leaves her tongue intact. We'll need that bit to get anything useful."

"Hey, hey, hang on. She could tell us anything. How would we know if it's true?" Xander pointed out.

Giles had already considered that. "Willow, Tara, Anya- you'll need to find a truth spell that will work on demons. She is our best source of information on how to defeat him permanently. We're going to ask her what it takes to finally end his unlife."

"What if she doesn't know?"

"We have to hope she can at least put us on the right path. Travers may have other information, as well. Between our two dubious allies, I hope we can get something."

"The real trick is getting him to hold still. He kept poofing and reforming," Buffy muttered as she kicked the sofa in frustration.

"In the book I purchased today, there are powerful spells. One of them should incapacitate him for at least a few minutes, hopefully allowing you to finish the job. But it is dark magic. Very dark. One witch should not attempt them alone, but we have four corners."

"Who's the fourth?" Tara asked, putting a bunch of herbs and a brass bowl down on the center of the floor. "Can we roll up your rug?"

"Oh yes, sacred circle." Giles got to his feet, but Spike and Xander were already moving the furniture for him. "Anya, would you be our fourth?"

"Me? Yes! Of course! It's been so long since I- oh, wow." Anya's eyes gleamed. "I love this plan."

"This isn't going to put you in touch with your vengeance-y side is it?" Xander asked warily.

"Let her aim it at Drac," Spike chuckled darkly and Xander smiled in spite of himself.

"I'll do the circle, and then we can do the secret-keeping wiccan oath, and then-"

There was a knock at the door. "Dinner!" Buffy realized she was starving. "Oath, then dinner, then more discussions of dusty Dracula?"

"All in favor?" Giles grinned and his guests yelled, "Aye!"

* * *

"Angel finds the ex-Mrs. Drac. Wiccas bespell the ex-Mrs. Mrs. Blabs. Council verifies blabbing or adds a load of tosh with a few kernels of pertinent information. Four corners hold Drac in place- Slayer serves him with a load of permanent divorce papers. Two problems," Spike summed up things an hour or so later. He was amazed how much he had suddenly found himself liking these people. But they made Buffy happy, which made him feel unaccountably happy, therefore, he found himself enjoying their company. Still, they talked in circles. He and Rupes wanted to get on with it, the librarian in his pompous Oxfordian summation way and him with the barebones facts.

"How do we get Dracula to come here, or how do we make sure I go to him and he doesn't vanish right when I ring the doorbell? Do you suppose the castle has a doorbell? Is it a real castle? What about plumbing? Or electricity?"

"Focus, Pet," Spike squeezed her shoulder supportively. "You'll never have to live with him, so don't you worry' bout it." No one said a word about the gesture, but he saw the glances shift his way and then away again.

"That is one thing we must work on, but without the method of killing him with any sort of finality, getting him here is useless. Yes, that's one problem. What's the other problem?"

"Timeframe. We better do this before Finn gets out of hospital, or at least before he's done recuperating. He wants to charge in and save the day. He's going to muck it up."

"He wouldn't do that," Buffy said. "He doesn't like Dracula anymore than the rest of us!"

"I don't think he means Riley would side with the vampire, I think he means his interference would cause problems in our plans," Willow said quietly.

"Probably," Buffy sighed. "I have a question that doesn't relate to the death end of things. It's the wedding thing. Vampires don't get married in a ceremony, do they?"

"They can. Dracula has had a few lavish ceremonies from what we read in the _Histoire La Trois Mairee, _the _History of the Three Brides_. Some were small and traditional affairs, some were huge."

"So- I couldn't be his vampire bride unless I did the church thing?"

"No. Hrm," Giles polished and gave Spike a look, but the vampire seemed just as interested, no hidden knowledge under his serious gaze. "Sometimes, it seems he just did the necessary action." Blank faces stared at him. Spike's face tilted downward, brows knitting. _Spike might not fully understand, but he had at least an inkling._ Giles stumbled on, "Vampires - uh- should they bond and exchange blood, and say the significant words the next step to performing a wedding, or sorts, is to- erm. Yes. Presumably they would- hrm- mate."

"What?" _Mate?_

"Physically. The act of-"

"They have to have sex, intercourse," Anya supplied. "The act of two flesh becoming one with an exchange of blood and the appropriate ritualistic vows and terms of possession. Spike, don't you know this?"

"Nope. Never was around anyone who hitched up. Darla and Angelus were never 'mated' for all their years of shagging."

"So, Buffy has to sleep with him, or else this bride stuff doesn't count?" Willow looked relieved.

"Dracula turns first- then weds. He doesn't seem to have done it the other way around. Once a woman was turned, already bound to him, he would then be her sire and she would feel immense loyalty to him. The bond would strengthen a hundredfold. Any access to her- to her mind or body- would be granted to Dracula as a matter of course."

Tara yelped as the book in her lap suddenly sparked and acrid smoke curled from its pages, white flares dotting her fingertips. "I'm sorry! S-sorry, Giles."

"Baby!" Willow pulled her girlfriend's hands to her lips and blew, putting out the tiny flames.

"So, she can't even say no? He can _make_ her? Force her, and she doesn't have a choice anymore?" Tara's pale face paled further.

"We're not going to let anything happen to Buffy," Giles reassured.

"Swear it on my unbeatin' heart and my shiny new bauble," Spike vowed, dangling the little pendant with a waggish smile to try to ease the tension in the room.

"It's okay, Tara. Spike and I are going to break the bond, and then Dracula won't have any loyalty to call on, anyway. It's all going to work out just fine," Buffy spoke the soothing words to herself as well.

Spike's hand found hers again. "What if the woman was already married?"

"He kills the husband first, making her technically a widow and free to wed."

"If the hubby won't kick it? Say he's after another vampire who has a vampire groom? Never heard of any besides him, but there must be."

"Yes, perhaps there are. Something we can look into, when it's less pressing. I'm sure Dracula would have no objection to killing a vampire who stood as rival between him and the woman he wished to wed. However, in all the stories that we've found, he only takes and turns a human, usually young and beautiful, and then they have a ritualistic wedding or the more primal sort, a - a copulation."

"It's the copulation that seals the deal. Vampires don't go in for holy sacraments. It's about an act of mating and marking. Giles, do you think the Council hires consultants?" Anya sat up eagerly. "They seriously should let me teach a couple of courses- for a modest fee, of course. But I'm a living history book, much more accurate than some of the stuff you have on your shelves. And more attractive."

"Gotta say, if I'd had to study under you or the big, dusty textbooks-" Xander pulled Anya to his knee and she giggled.

"We'll run it past them." Giles gave a wan smile. "We need to continue to read the _Histoire. _Something in there might give us a clue. Tara, Willow, Anya- you look for the truth spells and any binding spell you think might work to keep him in place. Xander, take the English copy, I'll take the French."

"What do we do?" Buffy asked.

"Well, the sooner you two begin breaking this hold, the better. I believe you also mentioned patrol." Giles beckoned Buffy, and by extension her leather-clad shadow over to the weapons chest by the front door. He spoke in a soft voice. "Has Dracula made himself known today in any form?"

"No. Actually…" Buffy looked to Spike. This was private. The way he pledged himself to her had made the dreams stop, and she hadn't been awake to hear the words, but the intimacy of him giving himself to her felt incredibly special.

"You may as well tell me," Giles forced the sigh out of his voice and tried to smile. "I know that whatever it is, it was a mutually agreed upon -uh- countermeasure."

"She was asleep at the time, but it felt like the right thing to do," Spike began cautiously. He found himself with a crossbow leveled at him and the ice in Giles' voice was present in the single phrase,

"Speak quickly."

"Oh, really? Outside? Show me!" Buffy said in a loud, falsely cheery voice and pulled both of the men so dear to her outside and shut the door firmly. "Giles! Put that down!"

"Steady on! I'm not Drac! I never- I never 'forced' my attentions on Slayer."

"I'm sorry, I lost my head."

"You almost made me lose mine!" Spike yelped accusatorily.

"Let me try again. Spike stood guard over me last night, afraid what Drac might do in my dreams. I was asleep, but Spike said something- special. I don't know if you need to know or not, but- but I-" she gave Spike a helpless look that seemed to say, "I don't want to share, but lucky me, I'm the Slayer. All my special, personal stuff ends up involving everyone."_ Riley couldn't take that. He hated that._

Spike instead seemed to puff up a bit as he slid his arm around Buffy's waist. "Challenged any claim or hold another has on her. Pledged my strength to her, my protection to her."

"He didn't just take, like Dracula. He gives. We're equals in this." Buffy leaned her head on Spike's chest with a tired smile.

Giles stared. They seemed more than comfortable, more than affectionate, more than loving, even. He couldn't quite place this odd glow between the two of them.

_Pride?_

_ Yes. Yes, he is genuinely proud to help her, and she is genuinely proud to have him on her side. Oh God._

_Oh … good? Yes, that is certainly- odd. But good._ "That's wonderful. Noble. I'm glad." Giles steadied himself on the wrought iron rail by his steps.

"Wonderful?" Buffy looked incredulous.

"Noble?" Spike looked pleased, then tried to hide it under a scoffing shrug.

"I'm so glad you two- you two are partners, not possessions. Was there anything else?"

_I'm going to take her away in under twenty four hours and ravish her in the most tender way possible- and then as hard as we can go, provided we're both up to it. Going to fill her up and bite her, spill in her, claim her, make her mine and now we know why it's a wedding night. _Spike set his jaw to to hide the smirk.

_I'm going to get married tomorrow night. Private ceremony. I bought a white nightie. I even bought a garter. I felt silly and now I feel smart. I was right. Going to take my groom and make him mine, permanently mine. Feel- what's that word? Giddy! Yes, giddy, like I can't sit still, but in a good way._ Buffy tried to turn down the excitement humming through her skin and shining out of her eyes.

"Spike? Buffy?" Giles asked as the silence went on between them.

"Nothing else," both of them said as one.

* * *

"So… he's pretty messed up," Xander and Buffy carried overflowing bags of take out cartons and empty liquor bottles out of Giles' flat before Buffy and Spike prepared to depart.

"Spike? I guess. But, he has a lot of humanity under all the snarls and swaggering, Xan."

"No, not him. Also- okay, he's in the benefit of the doubt club right now. But, Dracula. He- he made me turn you over to him. He made me put Anya in a closet, lock her up. He made me eat spiders, Buffy. Creepy, icky, eight-legged demons masquerading as insects. And I liked them. He's sick."

"He likes control," Buffy said simply. _All these men in my life, they love control. They love controlling me- because I'm the ultimate power. Having me gives them power. Is that all I am to them? _She gave a sigh as the dark, hollowed-out feeling that made her so tired, so desperately hungry for the intangible things, like love and peace, welled up inside her.

"I was reading some of that book- the history of the brides book? Dracula? Not a nice person. The Halloween costume people make it seem like he's so romantic and mysterious. He just has good PR."

Buffy looked intently at her usually goofy friend. Under the quips, he looked genuinely freaked out. "I know he's a monster. I'm sorry I- I'm sorry I got bit."

"No! Buff, not your fault! He can do that to a person, he can erase your thoughts, control them. Control a- a person."

"Hey- he's not going to- ooof!" Buffy found herself crushed in a sudden hug. "Xander!"

"I almost gave you to him. God, Buffy, what if you hadn't fought back? What if he- he convinced you it was all some little dream, just come along and get bit, get turned, let me use you and keep you until I get bored."_ I would have been an accessory to the kidnapping, murder, and rape of my best friend._ His sesame chicken attempted an abrupt reversal in digestion. "Buff, I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault! It's not_ our_ fault. I'm already guilt-tripping, you don't need to."

"Yes, I do!"

"Or- we could both get off the guilt train. I'll get better. Spike will help. You'll help."

"Anything. Tell me. Short of learning Latin. That's a lost cause. But I'll kidnap a translator or something."

Buffy laughed softly. "Just don't pull a Riley."

"I promise not to grow a ruggedly determined chin and large, perfect teeth?"

"He cares more about control than me. He'd rather I get better on his terms than get better."

"Well, that's kinda dumb," Xander rolled his eyes, making another burst of laughter escape her, much louder this time. "No, seriously! What the hell is the point of giving you rules on how you can get rid of the creepy vamp who wants to brainwash you and turn you into his sex slave? Just get rid of him! If I could bite you and make him go away- I'd say, pass the ketchup. Ew. No. I wouldn't say that. I'm sorry, that sounded so much cooler in my head. The point is-I'd do anything you needed to help you. I'm always Team Buffy."

"Firstly, yes, so much ew. Secondly- thank you. Third- I love you, Xander Harris. You are officially on my very short list of men I like and don't feel a desire to stake. Or kick in a soft, dangly area."

"Amen. Love you, too."

* * *

"Hey."

"Hey." Spike puffed on his cigarette as Buffy finished hugging the wiccas and the Watcher. The boy was beside him, tensed up.

"You have to break Dracula's hold on her?"

"That's the idea." _Where is this going to go? Prob'ly somewhere unpleasant._

"He made her do things she didn't want."

"Aware of that- hence me bein' here."

"If you ever tried to do that to her-"

"Do what?" Spike took a long drag and then threw it away. The pain in the brunette's voice was evident. It would have been delicious, if it hadn't been a shared pain. Shared fear. Fear that someone would break that beautiful, brave woman standing in the lamplight, laughing with her friends. Fear that she'd be the one shattered, someone's toy to pull apart.

"Try to hurt her, make her do things because you'll have this power-"

"I won't have that kind of power, first off. She didn't even wanna get bit, he used his mojo on her, parlor tricks and conjures. I don't have that. Even if I did, I don't want power over her. She can have power over me, share it equally. A partnership, not like that git forced her into. She wants this. I want this. I won't hurt her, she won't hurt me." Spike hesitated. "Uh-shake on it?"

Xander looked startled. "Do we do that?"

"Would it help?"

"I don't know."

"She's all right, the Slayer. She's treated me beyond decent all these months. I'll do whatever she needs me to. I'm hers." Blue eyes looked away in panic, cover blown. "I'm hers for the asking. For this situation. You get me?"

"I'm super concerned that I do. Probably means I'm slowly going insane. I_ think_ you're saying you and Buffy are on friendly terms, and no force is involved?"

_She is my friend now. A friend is the one you light up around, the one you laugh with, play with, joke with. Huh. How 'bout that. She's friend and lover. Family. Kindred. _

_ Damn. She's my everythin_g. "Friendly terms. Extends to you and the rest of the white hats, of course. It'd have to, for her to be happy."

Xander paused. _For her to be happy_. He hadn't seen her happy in so long. He couldn't remember even a single solid week when something ugly didn't rear its head to hurt her, make her fight for her life. "If you make her better- and keep her happy- that does make me happy, in a very nauseated way. Not the happy part, the you doing it part."

"I got that, you daft idiot." Spike hesitated, took his hand out of his pocket, winced a bit, put it down, and then held it out with a grimace. "Shake on it. To protect she who needs no protection, to guard her happiness, brothers in arms." _Soddin', flippin' flamin' bloody buggerin' HELL. Fancy-ass language and big words now?_ Now?_ With the annoyin' idiot boy? What the-_

"Geez, Spike, in this century we just say 'deal', but yeah," Xander shook Spike's hand with the same sort of painful grimace.

Pulled apart with a shock. Something warm seemed to flicker in their palms, like a pulse of heat and light. "Oh fuck," Spike muttered.

"What was that?" Xander pulled his hand back quizzically.

"I have no idea. Ever since I agreed to help Buffy, strange words keep poppin' into my head and findin' their inconvenient way outta my mouth," Spike groaned quietly.

"It's okay. It was- kinda poetic. Nice. I mean, it makes sense. If we're fighting on the same side- brothers in arms. That's a military thing. Kinda cool," Xander smiled at Spike. Then went cross-eyed, trying to peer down and see his own mouth. Had he just_ smiled_ at Spike? Had he just complimented_ Spike_? What was worse- had he just meant it? "Ow!" Xander rubbed his temples viciously.

"I know the feeling," Spike muttered.

"Okay, patrol time!" Buffy bounced over to stand between Spike and Xander, feeling curiously energetic.

"Two minutes, Luv. Watcher? With me." Spike jerked his head to the front door and Giles shuffled over with a longing look toward his comfy chair.

* * *

"I think I messed up somehow. Don't stake me!"

"What? Messed up how? When? Everything seemed quite- quite satisfactory a few minutes ago," Giles gave the nervously pacing vampire a flummoxed look.

"Earlier today, had a thought. Mystical little words, popped in my brain. Blood of my blood is blood to me."

"Regarding?" Giles' puzzled expression deepened.

"Well, that's her now. Buffy. Kindred to me, blood to me. And when I saw the wicca set earlier today, I was happy to see them. Happy when we had a moment together, talkin' nicely, not tradin' barbs. I always liked Red. Like Tara, too. Love Demon Gal, she's the only ruddy one of you I understand half the time."

Giles' face turned mildly impatient. "You dragged me out here to tell me you enjoy spending time with three charming young women? Well, one of them is a bit blunt, but I suppose she has charms of a sort. I see no surprise."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. I suppose I do." _Spike treated us as conveniences. We treated him in a similar fashion. Prior to that, we treated each other as enemies, then uneasy partners in a truce. _"Well, it's not a problem, treating an ally better than a mere fixture, a pawn."

"You don't understand! These words keep coming up, comin' into my head, out of my mouth. I think it's the bond. I -just now- uh- called Xander a brother in arms, and we shook on it, and it felt tingly. Don't give me that look!"

"He's a very handsome man. Lots of heavy lifting these days, rippling musculature." Giles allowed himself a muted smirk at the irritated vampire.

"I'm sure he's a real looker, but my tastes run more to the feminine and lethal these days." Spike jerked his head toward the interior. _Shit. Again! _

_ Did he just admit he has an attraction to Buffy? Well, that was no secret to me, but he's rather outed himself now. And he looks concerned and miserable._ "I doubt the words are harmful. What were they again?"

"Blood of my blood is blood to me. Then, lemme think, with Xander I said, 'To protect she who needs no protection, to guard her happiness, brothers in arms.' Then we shook on it. It felt like a throb. A tingle on the skin."

Giles tilted his head. "Blood of my blood… Hang on. I need the King James."

"He's a bit passed on, Rupert. You're a few centuries late, but we could raise his ghost if you needed a quick word."

"The Bible! King James Version of the- never mind." Giles darted into the house and went to a shelf where religious literature nestled among prophecies. They often had similar weight in the supernatural world. On a hunch, he grabbed another book as well, a worn leatherbound novel.

"Can we go? Why the big book rush? Should I be reading something?" Buffy looked at her Watcher and Spike curiously.

"Checking on- er- something," Giles disappeared back outside. "Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh… Genesis," he muttered once he settled against the railing. "Adam's words to Eve, as they became husband and wife, family."

"I didn't say-"

"Wait for it-" Giles hushed the impatient peroxide vamp. He flipped the novel open and ran his hand over a few pages. "Ah. 'And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin.'"

"What book is that?"

"Bram Stoker's _Dracula_."

"Bloody hell."

"Spike, this is considered a work of fiction. To an extent, I'm sure the story is fictional. But, we know that Dracula boasts and reveals many vampiric secrets. I believe the words he used here are not just made up by the author, but were probably words Dracula has used when claiming and turning a victim. It means- well, family. Kindred. We already knew you and Buffy would have to exchange some term of possession, ownership."

"Partnership," Spike insisted. "Don't own her unless it's mutual."

"Very well. The point being, you seem to have taken Buffy very firmly as your family. The vampiric variation can be taken two ways, as you calling Buffy family, the demonic equivalent of bone of my bone, since you use blood to bond, not other physical properties. She is blood of your blood. And then you said blood of my blood is blood to me- you claimed her family as your family."

"I'm not gonna go around bitin' all of you!" Spike looked sickened. "No! That's- that's not on. Donated in a bag, maybe, but-"

"Do shut up. Buffy sees us as her family, brother, sisters, father. It's a mutual feeling," Giles knew that feeling very intimately. The feeling of being a father with no right to call himself one, but that had never stopped him from embracing her as a daughter, or her from returning the gesture. "You seem to know her extraordinarily well, in a very short time."

"Bond'll do that. But keep it down, all of 'em don't know we've been at this already." Spike cast an anxious look inside.

"Quite. I wouldn't worry, Spike. You claiming to care for Buffy's family is simply a perk for her. A nice sentiment."

"Sentiments don't make you feel like you grabbed a lightbulb," Spike insisted.

Giles considered. "No. They don't. Have these words come out other times as well? Last night when you challenged Dracula's claim, that was an episode of 'mystical little words'?"

"Happened a few times. Think it's happened with Buffy, too."

"Extraordinary. It's something innate. Vampires bite, but this goes beyond that. There is something that metaphysically binds you, some unknown force, unseen chains. I think you and she are experiencing that. It doesn't seem to be harmful."

"I'll never be able to let her go at this rate." Spike rubbed his chest in a tight circle, heart feeling full and painful. "So bound up with her. Even her family. I pledged myself to her, I'll never…"

"Never let her go?" Giles' voice was quiet and sharp. Spike gave him a sudden glance. A scared glance.

One word from pale lips. "Please."

Giles grasped his books tighter. Knowledge contained in them was proving sadly inadequate. _Please? Please what? Please let him keep this bond, when we specifically agreed he would let her go- but that was before so much passed between them, so quickly. _

"Please?" Giles repeated softly.

"Please don't hurt her," Spike breathed out.

The graying man felt his insides tighten and his heart spasmed. "What have you done?"

Spike shrugged. "I don't even know. I never tried to do anything wrong. For her, for her family, I could be right."

Buffy pushed the door open, smiling as she said, "Do British people tell time differently than Americans? 'Cause your two minutes turned into ten. Spike, we should- what's wrong? Giles? What's wrong?" Buffy emerged completely, closing the door firmly behind her.

Spike said nothing, just held out his hand, and she took it automatically. "You're hurting," Buffy stated. She could feel it. A faint throbbing, a dull pain in her ribs. "Giles, why does he hurt?"

"Because he gave himself to you too fully. He bound himself to you too tightly, and it'll hurt to release you. It will likely hurt you both." Giles answered gently, eyes never leaving the pair of faces before them. Spike looked aggrieved, and her face went hard.

"He doesn't need to release me any time soon."

"The longer it lasts, the harder it will be to undo," he reminded her.

"That's the point."

"Slayer-"

"We promised we wouldn't hurt each other. This arrangement was not about pain, it was about ending pain." Buffy took Giles hand in her free one. "You're both family to me. Family sticks together." Buffy felt a surge on one side of her, and a broken sparking on the other. Her head tilted. It was like she could hear something faintly whispering way in the back of her mind, reminding her that she knew the thing to say to fix it. "Family protects each other. I protect you. You protect me. We protect." She swallowed. No. Words weren't done. "We protect. Strength for strength," she gripped Giles' hand hard, "blood for blood," she gave Spike's hand an answering grip.

Giles' eyes flared open wide as he felt the single weak current of heat in his hand. "What was…"

"Told you," Spike said smugly.

"Did you guys just have a weird burst of static electricity?" Buffy looked at her black gauzy overshirt accusingly. "I need to use dryer sheets. Mom says dryer sheets help with static cling."

"It's static from the ethereal plane, Luv," Spike put his arm around Buffy's shoulders and rested his jaw on her hair.

"Huh?"

"The local outlaw is now the in-law," Spike chuckled, no longer as worried and now rather enjoying Rupert's discomfiture.

"And I repeat, _huh_?"

"You and Spike have a very, _very _strong bond," Giles gasped. "It seems to encompass a feeling of love -or loyalty, yes, loyalty and protectiveness to your family."

"Like - when a couple gets married, they extend their family?"

"Quite."

"But it's not bad? It just means you have someone loyal to you and who wants to keep you safe?"

How could he say, "But I don't want to be kept safe by a vampire?" when he was in essence asking Spike to keep his most precious thing, his heart's child, safe? Hypocrisy was a stock-in-trade of Watchers. He had never been more proud to be fired as he was able to place a kiss on her forehead and reply, "You're right. It's perfectly fine. Loyalty- unbreaking loyalty is a very good thing in this very bad world."

To be continued...

So, I ended up writing a sexy little vampire piece called Vampire in Vegas and then the rollercoaster of vampire-y smut took over and I wrote a SECOND piece called Vampire in Vegas: Quartet. Both are on Amazon under the name S.C. Principale. And there's a whole spuffy-inspired series called CrossRealms, also under S.C. Principale and if you like erotica with a "bite", I hope you'll try it!

Thanks, Sweet


	17. Part XVII

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, Cjtotts, and the kind guest reviewers._

**Part XVII **

"He as good as admitted that we want to stay together." Spike was irritated, but with himself. He had failed miserably at being secretive. He always had, when it came to something he truly cared about, truly loved. That was how he kept getting hurt. People knew everything he wanted and they put targets on those things, on those people. That was how Angelus knew to screw Dru right in front of him, how Buffy knew how to put a stake to Dru, and now- Buffy was the one thing he wanted to protect, to love. She could take the bad guys, and he would bloody well help. Would the good guys hurt her? No, that at least was some comfort. They had him over a barrel, but at least it was the barrel of his own choosing.

"He already knew we wanted to stay involved. Now, he gets how much- sort of. That'll make it easier in the long run," Buffy sounded brave. It was practical. It prevented the hyperventilation from starting.

"But-"

"Spike?" Her voice was tiny as they crossed under a streetlight.

"What, Pet?"

"Tomorrow night- well, actually tonight-"

"Check-in is at 2. We can be waitin' at the doors. It's not even a full day away," his voice was husky as they dropped back into the shadows.

"I think I know why I was waiting to- to _completely_ make love. Not just because of Riley. Not just my issues. Something inside understood this would be big. Also, you know, a few days of falling in love seems 'rushed' to normal people, and it took me all those day to realize that I'm okay not being totally normal, and I don't even want to pretend around you." She leaned on his arm with a thankful sigh. That mantle of pretense had been so heavy. She was glad to shed it, trade it for the weight of his loving arm against her instead. "I wanted you in me so much, and this very stubborn, little, insistent voice would always say to wait. Slayer dreams and Slayer instincts are pushy things that you can try to ignore, but it always hurts you. This was like that, and now I get why. This whole- 'one flesh' deal. I guess ancient magic does have a literal interpretation sometimes."

"It does indeed."

"So… tonight is like- a wedding night," she continued, half-halting, half-rushed.

"Yes." That was all he could let himself say.

"I'm pretty much against divorce," Buffy whispered. "Lived through one. It sucks."

"We don't have to do this," Spike was quick to say, though he hated to even voice such a thing. It felt like every piece of him was missing the only thing that could further cement their bond.

"Not what I meant. I meant… I don't want to get divorced. In the real sense of the word, or the fangy, bite-y way. Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"Why?"

"Because then I won't want to let you go." _Like, ever. Not even for a minute to prove that I'm not "owned."_

"Which is brilliant, since I don't want to let you go, either."

"I'm a human. I won't live for years and years without getting older. I won't even live for-"

"Oi. You control the death wish. I'm here to stop it getting mouthy. You'll live as long as you're gonna, just like me, and we'll end things with 'death do you part' just like human couples. If that's what you want." _Are you bat-shagging crazy!? You would have applauded her death, provided it was with a fair fight, a few weeks ago. A week together and you wanna be with her forever?_

_ Well, yeah. That's how it's supposed to go. Bonds are done with the intent you stick together, aren't they?_ "I told Rupert this was a disaster waiting to happen. You don't bond unless you plan to stick together, you want to belong together. Or, you want to own someone, more like."

"We make our own fine print." Buffy winked, voice shaking.

"That we do. I'm sayin' I'm okay with this kind of disaster, if you're in it with me."

"I will be."

They smiled as they walked in perfect step. "Patrol?"

_Need to do one. We'll be otherwise engaged tomorrow night, and I want to take her against the nearest flat surface- hell, any surface, right this second._ "Patrol."

* * *

They paused at a cemetery. Shadows evaporated in the absence of light. Spike gave her the nod and moved in slow and low.

Buffy followed, then split off. They didn't even need to use words right now. It seemed like they could sense, or sort of predict what the other was doing.

_Big vamp. In the middle. What's he got? _Spike looked through the darkness.

Bringing home dinner, Buffy realized as she saw him unceremoniously drop an unconscious figure.

"Slayer?" The big vamp turned toward Spike. He sniffed. "What the hell? Spike? Do you know you reek of Slayer?"

"It's the new fragrance for fall. All the cool vamps are wearin' it." Spike smirked.

"You finally take her out?"

"Well, no, he's planning that for later. Are we having dinner and a movie, Sweetie, or just straight to the hotel?" Buffy landed neatly behind the vampire, stake through the back as he gasped.

Spike chuckled and they lifted the victim up. He hoisted the man over his shoulder and they set off for the nearest hospital, church, or police cruiser, looking for a safe place to deposit him. "We oughta be a bit more discreet, huh?"

"Riley isn't around. We can have the night to show off a little," Buffy said recklessly.

"Not because of Finn, because of Dracula."

"He knows exactly who I choose. He knows you're the challenger. If he wants me, he'll make a move. I just hope he waits, because it's going to be hell to keep staking him and -hey, do you think if we vacuumed up his ashes real quick in two different Dustbusters we could keep him from reforming until we figure out how to kill him?"

"Why Dustbusters?"

"They're portable!"

"I can just see you, six gun holsters and big boots, Pet. Fastest sucker in the West."

Buffy gave him a wicked look. "I thought earlier you told me my 'slow burn' technique was going to set you on fire?"

"Minx."

"You like that about me."

"Mmm, I love that about you. Shall we sweep for a bit longer?"

"Maybe until sunrise? I don't think I can sleep… and I don't think I can lay down with you, either," Buffy confessed, suddenly breathless.

He knew what she meant. He moved toward her- only to be stopped by a brown loafer to the cheek. "Oh, look who's up. You're all right, mate, steady on… You nearly had it, but you're gonna be fine."

* * *

In the doorway of an abandoned building, Agent Brown paused. He had seen two figures go into the cemetery and three come back out before he could even get himself prepped to wade in after them. One was Buffy, he knew that. Who was the guy with her? He looked familiar. Why was there a man over the guy's shoulder?

The least Joshua Brown could do for a fellow agent was watch over his family and his girl. That was how Finn had put it as they clasped hands when Finn was placed on the gurney for transport. _Watch Buffy. _Shouldn't that have been watch over? Poor guy was fading in and out, heart rate thready, adrenal glands near crashing, and some sudden stress had sent him off the deep end. Nurses had sedated him for his own safety, making Brown's final conversation with him drowsy and sort of incoherent.

_Don't get in her way unless she's in danger. Watch out for a vampire, tall, dark, forehead the size of a phonebook. Also- Dracula. Yes, the literal one._

At this point, Brown decided to nod and smile. Yes, Dracula and vampires were real, he'd seen demons, killed them, chipped them- which he considered a dumb thing to do, frankly. Not as dumb as Riley suggesting that he, a lone agent, try to take on a mythically strong creature or a _legendary_, mythically strong creature with nothing but a taser and a standard issue gun. It had taken a team of six to bring in every hostile they'd ever tagged.

Hostile. Yes, Hostile 17! That was the one. But he was chipped. No danger. Also- Brown stepped carefully forward from the shadows to watch them help a middle-aged man take a seat on the steps of a closed restaurant- not acting hostile by any definition.

* * *

"Do you have a cell phone?" Buffy asked the dazed man.

"Wh- what happened?" he gestured vaguely to his coat pocket.

"Mugger," Spike answered quickly. "Blow on the back of your head. Cut on your neck. Nasty brutes. You need to avoid bein' out alone late at night in this town."

"I know, but my wife just had our first baby. Tried for years. I have a daughter!" His dazed eyes focused for a second, searing his saviors with profound joy. Then the confused, concerned look reappeared. "Left the hospital to go home and walk our dogs- oh my God. Oh my God, he could have killed me! Carolyn would have- that's my wife- Carolyn would have had to raise her alone. Oh my God."

"Don't blub, now," Spike felt panicky. He was feeling something strange happening to him, a troubling but not unpleasant feeling in his gut that he couldn't place.

"Here, you're only like four blocks from the hospital. Did you make it home to your dogs?"

"I did. I walked home. I walked back and I realized I hadn't eaten yet. It'd been a long labor, twenty one hours! Carolyn was a trooper." He smiled around him in a dazed way, and then frowned as the grim reality returned. "Anyway- I was going to stop and see if I could grab something, see if anything was open late- then nothing. I don't remember anything between looking at a restaurant and waking up."

"The hospital will have a cafeteria. I'm not sure if it's technically food that they serve, but it's digestible rubber," Buffy joked and helped the man get to his feet.

"We'll get you back to 'em," Spike announced.

Buffy flashed him a surprised but grateful smile. He didn't return it. He looked- concerned. Confused.

"What's the little bit's name?"

"We couldn't decide. Marilyn or Sharon. Hey. What's your name, Miss?"

"Buffy."

"What's your middle name?"

Buffy and Spike hid wry grins. "Anne."

"Marilyn Anne or Sharon Anne. I insist. You two must be guardian angels."

Spike lit up hastily, face taut. "She is. I was just-"

"Don't sell yourself short, William," Buffy used his human name for the sake of the wobbly man between them, and earned a look of shock, replaced slowly by something shy and gratified.

"Will you come meet her? The baby? And my wife! Oh my God. You saved my life. They'll want to meet you. You saved my family."

* * *

Brown trailed the trio to the hospital. Feeling awkward, he went in and watched the man get diverted from his path to the maternity wing to the triage nurse at the ER who insisted on putting a dressing on his neck. She was then was willing to release him quickly to his family since he'd still be in the hospital. The blonde girl stayed with him while her silent companion went away and returned several minutes later with a large foil balloon with teddy bears and hearts on it.

"For the little one. I don't think I'll come up. I just had a smoke, y'see. Not good for her bitty lungs. You go on, Sl- Buffy."

"Okay. I'll see you this afternoon," Buffy kept her voice light and casual. Something was up. Two somethings. She gave Spike the nod toward the door, and he took the cue.

One thing was more important and urgent. It was something she wanted Spike to let her handle, and because he didn't have to prove that he was a big boy who could protect the helpless little lady, he nodded and left. She made sure that the something of concern didn't follow him. It didn't.

"I'll come meet your daughter in a minute, Mr.-"

"Ryan."

"Ryan. I see an old friend I need to say hi to."

* * *

"I know you. Don't know your name, but I know your face, and I know you're watching me. Helping Riley?"

Brown looked sheepish. "You're good. You were crazy good, from day one."

"I'm good, and you guys suck at stealth. Honestly. Was it not part of the training?"

"You had to get a passing grade, but that was it," Brown's smile, briefly visiting, now vanished. "He's having surgery this morning, in just a few hours."

"I know. I'm thinking of him. I'm worried about him. But if he thinks I'm not out unless he's watching my back, that can't happen. A night here and there I can miss if I have to. I have friends to help. But taking off days while he recuperates- not on a Hellmouth, especially not when the nights get longer."

"I see that. Don't worry, he didn't want you to take the night off. He just wanted me to make sure no vamps hassled you. One with the big forehead? And Dracula?"

_Angel. As if Angel would hassle me. I bet Riley didn't explain what was going on past the me getting bit part. That's good, I guess. It also makes me look like the weak one instead of him looking like the selfish one._ "Okay. I can see him requesting that," Buffy said as civilly as she could. Inside, she was screaming. Was Riley determined to let his friends die for the sake of his ego? "No offense, but I can handle them better than you can."

"None taken. I know. I was going to help if you got attacked or anything, but no way in hell could I take on a vamp alone. We had units for a reason. We're just humans. You're the Slayer," Brown muttered softly, stepping closer and hoping no one overheard him.

"You get that?" Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"What's to get? Vampires are real. A Chosen One to hunt them is real. You have the_ gift_ to hunt them, I just checked the box for special missions when I was done Black Ops Basic."

"Why doesn't Riley get that?"

"Why does he insist Iowa is the best state ever when they don't even have a professional baseball team?" Brown shrugged. "I don't get inside his head, lady, I just do favors for my friends. He's hurt, he wanted someone to make sure you were okay. I can see you are. I went to your address first, when you weren't there I started looking around cemeteries. I saw you- and I could see you had some backup."

"Mhm." She waited.

Brown spoke casually, waiting to see if there were any telltale twitches. "An HST? I don't remember his number." No twitches, just a setting jaw and a sudden flash in her eyes that reminded him deadly things came in pretty packages in Sunnydale.

"That's good. He's not a number. He has a name. He has - people he helps, people he cares about."

"Uh- that's not typical."

"No, I know that. He's not controlled by a demon, he just has one. Consider it a- a metaphysical prosthetic." Buffy winced internally. _That is so much not what it is. That is so dumbed down._

_Commando level explanations._

Brown shrugged. "You're the expert. Gotta say, I've never seen a vampire save a human from another vampire before."

Buffy hesitated. "Yes, you have. You've seen that one do it. That exact same vampire came with me and my friends into the Initiative and stopped Adam and his Trojan Horse party. You might owe that vamp your life." _Okay, so he _was_ also part of the original Adam-Trojan Horse plan, but he switched sides. He's on my side for good now. That's the only relevant part. _

Brown looked surprised. "He was? I didn't even-"

"He wore fatigues and took out demons. You were probably too busy not dying to notice one pale guy in olive drab in the thick of things. He's got darkness, but he can use it for good. You saw that." _I saw that. I saw that it freaked Spike out, too. I gotta go meet up with him. I guess I'll have to play with temptation for a little bit longer._

"What's his name?" _Wait, do they have names? They must, right? People talk to them. They were humans- once. _This was a big step. It was the first time he'd ever thought of them as having names. Not just numbers. Not just things. Maybe not people. But something more than wild beasts bent on hurting. _This one helps. _"He's chipped, right?"

"Doesn't matter," Buffy kept her voice level.

"I guess not. Not like we're still in the business of chipping them up, anyway. His name?"

Buffy debated. How much had Brown seen or heard? How much would Riley connect the dots? Did Riley even know Spike had another name? He had definitely proven he sucked at listening and at research. "His name is William."

"William."

"Can you just tell Riley I'm fine? He doesn't even need to know about William helping me out. I don't need him to stress about me. He's got to get better."

"I'll tell him you - you went on patrol and saved someone's life. Mazel Tov."

"Mazel Tov, Agent Brown."

"I have to get back to base. I only had a twelve hour pass. I ship out soon."

"Be careful out there," Buffy said genuinely.

He returned it with a crooked grin and half-salute as he walked away. "Stay safe, Summers."

Buffy headed toward the hospital elevators. _Riley might figure it out. Eventually. Ugh. _

_ Well- then he can deal. And if he tries to hurt Spike- I will take back everything I ever said about not wanting to hurt him._

* * *

Spike stirred in his bed. He wasn't sleeping peacefully, but he had slept, off and on.

Now, he was on as if someone turned a key in his ignition. Senses were suddenly on fire. _My girl. My girl's here!_ "Buffy!" He sat up with relief in his voice, finding her slipping down the ladder.

"I held the baby! Oh my God, she's like the tiniest thing I've ever seen! She's 5 pounds 3 oz and she has so much fluffy brown hair. Like duck down, all soft and puffy. And she's all squished up, her tiny pink face is all smooshy and chubby. I wanted to kiss her cheeks, but I didn't. I was so scared to hold her, but I did it! Carolyn is really nice. Also, she looked like utter_ hell_. Happy about it, but still. Labor is hard. I'm very, very okay that I don't have to push something the size of a watermelon out of something more the size of a -"

Spike was sitting up, shirtless, his expression switching from soft to lecherous, making her halt. "Go on," he led.

"Something small," Buffy hastily concluded.

"Who was the git following us? Dracula's or Finn's?"

"Finn's. Riley's old friend. He recognized you- but not specifically."

"Well, the fat's in the fire, then. What do we do?" _Finn'll kill me. Or her. Well, then, I'll put him down first. No one hurts us. Sod, how'm I- _Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"I don't know. You don't get hurt. If Riley tries to hurt you- we have to stop him. I'll do what I have to." Buffy suddenly cocked her head. "You need your chip out."

"Say what?" Spike bolted to his feet immediately, dragging half the sheet with him.

"You have to be able to defend yourself."

"But if I take my chip out-"

"Nothing changes about how you act, just about how you can protect yourself. That's the next thing on the list, after the Dracula stuff. But don't freak about the agent guy. We talked. He seemed cool with knowing you had helped us before. I told him not to tell Riley anything more than that I had a safe patrol without Dracula showing up. Riley told Brown to watch out for Dracula and Angel. Didn't mention you."

"For once, I'm not jealous. Back to the chip-"

"Do you want it out?"

_True love- an' still a little bit stupid at times._ "Of course!"

"Then- we'll have to find a way. Maybe we should do that before we take care of Dracula? I don't know." Buffy launched into a list of rapidfire, mumbled pros and cons of sticking to the plan of ending Dracula permanently as the priority or of finding some magical way to disable or remove the chip so that Spike could defend himself from Riley, who was at least sidelined for a few weeks.

Spike hushed her, coming up and pressing to her side, making her realize that he had worn nothing to bed, making all of her instincts cry out that he was hers, and she was his. Any act between them was okay now.

Little words, in her own voice yet wiser seemed to prod her deeper into his arms. _He gave himself to you. You may give yourself to him. He will not own and possess. He will not control and harm. He will be your equal. He will give you all of himself, taken inside of you, as he takes you inside of him. _

"Woozy. Need to sleep," Buffy panted as they tangled into a kiss.

"The chip can wait. You have to be free before I can be free," Spike murmured.

"You keep putting me first. I want to put you first. I want- I want you to be safe. You deserve this."

"So do you."

"I love you."

"With all my heart."

"I wasn't going to sleep next to you today. I don't want to rush. Feel like rushing," Buffy ran her hands eagerly over his arms and his chest, ending at his shaft, which was pointing hotly into her hand, somehow so warm.

"Your blood in me. Lasts a long time. Keeps my fire burnin'. Always burnin' for you, have been, since I saw you, until you controlled the flames. A fire-dancer you are, make all the embers mind you." He ran his lips over her ear and down to the bite, tugging the scarf off in one hard motion, a rasp of silk twining with her gasping moan.

"Can we go there now? The place?"

"You should sleep. Sleep beside me, I'll be good. I'll always be good to you."

_So weird. To feel so safe. Safety doesn't mean I'm weak. Safety just means he's strong, too. God, I love this. Love him._ "I need to go home and shower. My bags-"

"Right, the bags. The shower," he agreed, still kissing her. "Drive you?"

"The sun is up. I thought maybe you'd want space. But I wanted to check on you."

"Why? Finn's out of commission for a bit."

"You acted like someone spooked you at the hospital. Was it Brown?"

"Huh? No, I twigged to him, but that wasn't it."

"What then?"

Damn her. She picked up on everything. How had he once thought she was oblivious and vapid? Must've been the miniskirts and the valley girl lingo. "You must get it all the time. The people."

"What people?"

"The ones you save? Sayin' you saved their lives. Lookin' at you like that. Like you're somethin' special and good. Angelic, even."

"I usually get the running and screaming, but yes, an occasional thank you is forthcoming."

"That little girl would have grown up without a dad."

"It sucks. Even if you're not so little," Buffy whispered.

"Sucks even if you're a boy."

"Oh, Spike-"

"It's all right. Past is past." _I killed lots of mums and dads, lots of sons and daughters. I didn't save too many. That look he gave me- that look of knowing you're going to be with the person you love… That look when you know your family is safe-_ "It was a rush. Different kind. I want that look again. I want that look for us."

"Hm?" Buffy stopped tracing patterns on his sternum and looked into his dark blue eyes.

"That look when the bloke realized he'd make it back to his wife. His baby. Safe and loved. Not ruined, not wrecked, torn apart. Want that for us. Want to- want to have you love me like that. Always safe and never torn away, torn apart. Always with me and me with you. Kindred." He let out a shaking breath when he looked in her eyes. "Bride."

Little word. Tiny, almost trembly whisper.

It was amazing what one word could do to you. She wondered if one of hers could make his heart expand the way hers just had. "Yes."

* * *

The sun was high. Showers and naps had been had. Bags were in the trunk. Hands were clasped on the bench seat between the driver and passenger.

"We're rushing into things."

"No, we're not."

"Spike, it's been a week. That's all."

"It's been years of knowing you. How long did it take you to go from average girl to Slayer?"

"Overnight. When one dies, you get ther powers instantly, no waiting."

"Sometimes it happens all at once. The best things. The hard things."

"This could be both."

"I accept the challenge," Spike chuckled.

They drove in silence, her with her eyes closed, him with his dark sunglasses on, peering through the painted windscreen.

"It's not actually that sudden," Spike broke the silence. "I didn't realize it until this morning, when I realized how much I wanted for you an' me to always be together, to have that look of relief, that nothin' is gonna come between us."

"Realize what?" Buffy lolled her head over to him with a serene smile.

"I've been waiting to find you my whole life. This isn't really a short story, Luv, it's just one brief chapter in a bloody long book."

She slid up against him, put her head on his shoulder. Words and phrases clogged her throat and her brain tried to find the right one.

_I love you._

_Thank you._

_ I think so, too._

_ This is freaky._

_ But wonderful._

"You're right, Spike."

"Say it again- I can never hear that enough!"

She laughed and kissed his cheek before settling back down against him. "Thank you for being in my story and putting me in yours."

* * *

"Were you jokin'?"

"About?"

"Dinner and a movie?"

"Oh. No, I'd love to go with you- but, I guess that seems pretty lame. Great big life-altering stuff verus burgers."

"I wasn't thinking burgers. Nice place. Proper place, low lighting, away from the windows. Or a show. 'Cause they have no windows as a rule."

"But- the big life-altering stuff?"

"If we're gonna be- if you were gonna become my-" _Can't say wife. Oh God. Can't say it, wanna say it, I hate this, stupid mouth- _"If you and I were gonna have some sorta weddin' night, don't you think I oughta least take you on one date?"

"Movies. Popcorn. Coke and popcorn and Junior Mints."

"We're sneakin' in the back, just so you know. Tend to avoid sunny glass windows these big movie-plexes go in for."

"What'll we see?"

"Just you. And how long it takes for one of us to make noise," he whispered mischievously.

Buffy giggled, but then bit her lip. Was later going to be all fun and games, giggling, orgasmic sex? She supposed she shouldn't complain if it was. That would be wonderful, delightful.

_Only I don't want it to be like that, not at first._ Something tight and anticipatory curled in her stomach and flared to her pelvis and up to her chest._ Tell him. You can trust him. You can tell him. He loves you, all of you._

He stopped the car at an intersection. "My love," he murmured.

"My love," she returned naturally, the perfect call and response. "Spike, I love to laugh with you. I never had someone to laugh with. I had lots of serious. Too much, sometimes. But, later-"

"Oh. Oh, my girl needn't worry. I know this is serious. In fact," he cleared his throat gruffly, "it's prob'ly the kind of serious we ought to be clear about."

He had to swallow a few times before the words would flow. "I do want this. I'm so fuckin' scared to do this. I never thought I would fall in love again, and I never, ever thought it would be you. I want it to be you, I want it to be forever, an' that shakes me up good and proper. I broke the hold, I gave me to you, you gave yourself to me, and it all kept getting deeper. Harder and faster, rollin' down some hill covered in blood and ancient words that have a lot of power."

Buffy waited, but he stopped and didn't continue. "It's not how I wanted things to go. Not how I planned. But I like them. Do you- no, I know you do. I don't have to ask."

"But _I _should ask." He hesitated. A sign for local attractions pointed him to a mall and movie theater along with a steak houses and a Mexican restaurant. He hastily pulled in, cutting off a lorry and earning a loud blare. He ignored all of those things. He could only hear her breathing, shallow and short, and her thudding, anxious heartbeat.

He parked the car. Turned off the engine. Stared straight ahead at his whiter than white knuckles on the torn black steering wheel. "Would you like- would you even want to consider- bein' my wife?"

_Wife. _

The note inside was jarring, like a piano being dropped- and then splattered keys turned into a perfect concerto, a virtuosic moment that crescendoed over all the rapid-fire arguments in her head.

_Vampires don't get married. We could never get married._ Angel's grave, face and melting eyes.

_ Slayers don't marry. They die too young. _

_ You're not out of college._

_ You hated him days ago._

_ He killed thousands of people._

_ You're a killer, too._

_ None of that matters. None of it. That wasn't the question. Do you want to be his wife?_

"I don't just want to, I'd love to."

Spike turned to her now, grabbing her up hard enough to make her squeak in protest before he crashed his lips to hers. "Say it back. Return it."

Her kiss-melted mind took a moment to process.

"Hard, harder, hardest!" Spike bit her lip softly as a reminder.

_Return. Give what you get._ "Kindred. Hu-husband." She gave a sudden shiver of fear, longing, and then the feeling of power came at the end like the afterburn of good whiskey.

"Put this on." Spike's hands were usually so skillful, but now they were clumsy with excitement and shock. Buffy found a battered ring, not the skull one he'd once given her, but a simple piece of thick silver, too large for her ring finger, being shoved on over her forefinger instead.

"I love it." Buffy meant the words. She absolutely adored this ring. This human's mark to go with the vampiric one he'd leave later. _Or now. The backseats of these old cars are pretty big and- _"We have to go to the movie, now, or we have to go to the hotel, right now, right now." Buffy pulled herself from his hungry kisses with an effort.

Spike let his senses slip beyond her for a moment. Barely noon. "Flick first. Fun later."

"I'm pretty sure all of it's fun," Buffy realized.

* * *

This was not fun. This was torture. Okay- erogenous-y-fun-torture. They were in a deserted theater at a midday showing of a terrible C- List horror film where the camera joggled and the actresses spent a lot of time screaming and taking their shirts to dangerous depths of cleavage.

Speaking of cleavage- that was also a spot that Spike seemed to enjoy. She wasn't complaining. She couldn't. If she opened her lips, she would moan louder than the actresses in one of their fake-torrid love scenes.

Two could play at that game- or would if Spike wasn't buffeted by layers of leather and denim and smirky-ness. "Not. Fair." Buffy freed herself from his pleasuring touches.

"Thought you'd like the warm up."

"I'm too warmed up. I feel feverish again."

Spike now looked concerned instead of conceited. "Shit. Maybe the bastard has more staying power than we thought. Maybe I'm not powerful enough to challenge him properly, or not at a distance, or-"

"Not thrall fever. Not true fever. Hunger."

Spike knew she wasn't a vampire. Didn't need to be. She could thrall him with those innocent but bewitching eyes. Her lip tucked up between her teeth in another bout of nerves. He would give anything for her to stop looking like that. Scared of doing it wrong. _Guess the only way for her to learn is to give her some practice._ "I'm hungry for you, too, Beautiful. Nothin' wrong in that. In fact, I say it's a fine thing."

She nodded, but didn't speak.

"Worrying again?"

Buffy looked up at him. In the flickering screenlight, she could see all the emotions flitting through his eyes and spiralling down to his lips, torn between smiling and serious. "Do you want to tell the others?"

Spike blinked. Well, that was unexpected. He had figured she'd swear him to secrecy under threat of frosty shoulders and broken septums. "Not yet," he offered simply.

"Disappointed?"

"No. It's all right to have a bit of privacy, Luv. Your Scobbies get into everything. God knows it'd drive some blokes mad. This can be one thing they find out later. Comfy with that?"

"Very comfy. B-but boyfriend is okay?"

His eyes popped. "You wanna tell 'em I'm your-"

"I figure we'll give it a few weeks for them to digest us being friends before we spring it on them."

"An' then?"

"We survive the first few weeks first," Buffy laughed bitterly. "Council. Travers. Riley. He's out of surgery by now, maybe. Gosh, I don't know how long heart surgery takes. I… I hope he's okay. I should have asked Brown to let me know."

Spike patted her arm without even the slightest bit of jealousy or possessiveness. He knew she was worried. He hated to see her struggling with herself, with that soft, strong, good heart. His beautiful puzzle, his lovely oxymoron. _She gives and forgives and loves with all of herself. An' she'll be mine soon. All of her. For all of me. _"Don't fret, Slayer. They'd let you know if anything is wrong. No news is good news and all that. We can pop to a phone, check your messages?"

"Maybe after," Buffy whispered, pulling him to his feet. _Can't wait anymore._

* * *

"It's beautiful!" Buffy tried to rush into their room, but Spike tightened his grip on her and tugged her back. With a swoop, he picked her up, legs over one arm, back in the other. "Spike!"

He continued as if she hadn't squealed, carrying her while talking expansively, strolling about the room as if he'd never put her down. "Now, I know traditionally the groom does that after the ceremony, but since we need to be inside the room for the ceremonies to commence…" he twirled her to the ground and deposited her in front of the closed drapes. "Thought I'd carry my bride-to-be over the threshold."

"Tradition-shmadition," Buffy grinned. "Pretty view?"

"I'll get the bags from the hall, you see if you like it."

Buffy opened the curtain to see a distant glitter of ocean and strip of beach, a long stretch of sparse houses and trees in between them and the hotel. This place wasn't beachfront. It wasn't fancy. It was clean and in the midst of a busy little city where they wouldn't be noticed. As promised the bed was big and the view was pretty. "It's perfect!" Buffy closed the drapes. She didn't want to dwell on those sights, anyway.

"It's not much, but-"

"I think it's perfect," Buffy said in a steely voice that shut his mouth. Then she smiled. "Does it have to be night to be a wedding night?"

"Well… technically, I suppose -" Spike trailed off as he watched her slowly, deliberately remove her scarf and turn to the bedroom mirror, fingers dexterously working in and out of her golden locks. Twisting it, pinning it, off to one side.

_Some women put on a show, a striptease. Mine just lets me watch her put that pretty little neck on display. _"It's late afternoon. Close enough. B'sides… think we'll go into the night, so it's both. Wedding day and wedding night."

He came up behind her, but she couldn't see the reflection in the mirror. "Hmm. Good deal. If you get the room ready, I'll get me ready."

"What's to ready, Luv?"

Her hands put a final twist on her hair and she turned, that eager yet lost look in her eyes once more. "I don't know. I never- you're the first. The only."

_Only bride. Only groom. _

_Forever._

_Eternal. _

Let the instincts drive, Spike thought. "I'll see to it."

* * *

He made it dark and then lit candles. He put them near the bed on the little two drawer nightstands- and then realized that they could be looking at a fire with one wrong jostle of furnishings. He moved them all to the little desk just under the mirror, let the reflective surface catch all the pretty flickering flames. _Beautiful. Like her. _

He stripped the bed down to the fitted sheet and its nest of plump pillows. They needed the space, sans the entanglement of too many covers. _There. Big bed. Pretty view. She's the loveliest sight of all._

_Hell. She's gonna be all prettied up and what'll I be dressed in? Jeans that've only seen more filth than a landfill or nothin' at all. I didn't bring roses. Sod. Should have brought roses. An' something sexy for gents to wear, silky boxers. Bloody hell, I'm off to a good start, aren't I?_

He stilled himself, listening to the rustle of fabric from the bathroom. _She doesn't want trappings. She wants you. Wants special. Love. Real love, real stayin' power. Reality, such as our twisted breed of reality is. _He left only his jeans on, belt off, and that was it. Waited to collect her as she came from the bathroom.

Buffy flossed and brushed (popcorn hulls were probably demonic) and fussed about the pure white nightgown that ended at the tops of her thighs. She slid on the matching thong, slid on the garter. "Should have got red. Why didn't I get red? This is going to get blood on it."

Hands were shaking. _You do this and you're married in the way no judge can undo. Even if he says the words to "set me free", or I say them, it'll feel like pieces of me are torn away and missing if we separate. Do this, and you'll never be apart. Never alone._

_ Never alone. Never lost and alone, the whole world to carry by yourself. _

The air escaped her and the joy entered her like sinking into a warm, steamy tub. All the muscles relaxed. _Never alone._

* * *

"Don't laugh," Buffy felt compelled to shout out a disclaimer as she opened the door.

"You, either. I didn't have time to buy any frillies- oh. Oh, Luv, look at my girl. How could I laugh? Do you think I'm the sort of bloke who goes out and yucks it up in front of the great masterpieces?"

Buffy blushed as she found herself reverently gathered into his arms, his eyes raking over her appreciatively, pretty much glowing.

"All those Renaissance chappies have nothing on my Slayer. My Buffy. My bride." He ran his hands down her sides, feeling her warmth through cool white silk. "You take a little piece of silk and make it fit for a queen, Pet."

"Every girl needs someone like you," Buffy laughed gently. "We wouldn't go around thinking we were two scrawny or ugly or-"

"Hush that talk!" Spike glared at her, dark brows down and jaw hard. "No one speaks of my wife like that. Not even the good lady herself. 'Sides, all my pieces seem satisfactory, but I didn't bring any of the pretty wrappings." He gestured ruefully down at his own jeans.

"I love the wrappings. I love the present a lot more." Buffy twined her arms around him playfully. "You know, I asked you to get me free from Dracula. I didn't know you'd give me a two-for-one deal. No one's ever dropped a husband in my lap."

They both paused, then laughed together as they said, "Except Willow."

"God, I love you," Spike sighed and took her hands, stepping back to admire her one more time. Caught sight of a garter at the thigh. "You went all out for me!"

"So did you! We could have- we could have done this anywhere. We kinda almost did," she giggled.

"Bridal bed. Should be special. Unforgettable."

"Everything with you is unforgettable. Except the bad stuff. All of the past seems… hazy. I know it happened. I know I hated you. It just doesn't seem to matter." Resolve prickled. "Is that just the bond?"

Spike considered. "I dunno. You seemed to hate Drac pretty consistently, even before I attempted to help you, and he didn't have any challengers, didn't have any interference except your own free will. You still got all your own free will, don't you, Pet?" _Hell. What if she says no? What if we did this wrong? Stupid, sacred primordial magical shit. _

"I don't know. Let's test it. Give me an order."

"Come kiss me."

"Not that kind of order! I _want_ to do that, idiot!" Buffy poked his ribs and went to the other side of the room, looking teasingly defiant.

"Put the telly on."

"Nope."

"Is it hard to say no?"

"No. Well, it depends. It_ was_ pretty hard not to run over there and kiss you…"

"I'm bound to you just as much. Gimme a turn."

"Order room service."

"We just ate three tubs of popcorn! You'll be sick."

"So, no?"

"So, no. How about after, when you need to top up your tank, Luv?"

"That sounds- Oh no! Spike! Did you-"

"I ate plenty. B'sides…" he met her back in the middle of the room, directly in front of the foot of the bed, "I think my bride'll help me. The smallest taste of her, the tiniest bit of her inside me- I could go for hours. She's powerful, my girl."

All the playfulness evaporated when he touched her neck. Finger gently to the mark he left on her. "The second I-" he shuddered, shoulders tensing and trying to relax, "the second I saw that mark on you- you remember what I said? That first night?"

She remembered so much, a lifetime in mere days, all so fresh and all so much a part of her as if she'd lived it forever. "You said, 'I look good on you.' I didn't know what to say. How to feel."

"But now?"

"You do look good on me." She touched his chin and turned his head slowly, gently but with her fingers firm, "I look good on you, too. Only my bites don't scar."

His eyes dilated as she ran her thumb over the tender, flexing hollow between tendons. He closed his eyes, nostrils flared. "Maybe this time I-"

She stopped and his eyes opened, met hers once again. "Hungry?" he whispered.

"Not the blood. The mark. The- I didn't get you a ring," she concluded, confused and yet certain.

He understood. _She wants to mark me as hers, too. Permanent way. Think maybe we can work something out. _"I'll help you."

"I know," she whispered.

* * *

The other times, the focus on biting led to foreplay, which had then led to making love in some way. This way felt backwards and proper all at once. He kissed her and remembered the first dream he had of her since this mess began- heads tangling and lips kissing, turning to biting as voices whispered "harder." Now this kissing turned to necking, teeth and nibbling lips mauling sensitive spots in a loving, desperate way.

It wasn't rushed, no, but every motion had such heat and intensity. Hands were interlocking and veering off to caress and seek out skin, taking down denim, pooling up silk. His fingers stopped and tangled in the lacy white band on her thigh. "Fancy, Pet."

"It's traditional," Buffy whispered, blushing. "Silly, I-"

"You know, the garter was proof the bride and groom had consummated."

"What?"

"In the old days, when you didn't get under a girl's skirts unless you were the lawful husband. Having your wife's garter meant you two had been married in more than name only."

"You make history way cooler," Buffy no longer blushed, she giggled in satisfaction. "Well, maybe I'd better leave this on for now. You haven't 'consummated' me all the way."

"Oooh, Slayer. You in this little strip of nothing?" Spike's purr rumbled from his chest, into her own.

"I love when you do that. It's like an internal massage. All of me feels warm and my muscles start to melt," Buffy purred in her own way, looking into his eyes, pulling him back toward the bed.

"All of you melts me. You're just the softest, sweetest, juiciest," his legs walked back with hers, pressed together on every step, a tango that had no music but just as much sultriness, "little pink peach."

Buffy fell with a gasp and closed her eyes as he fell atop her. Lips trailed down, fabric rode up. The garter stayed on.

He looked up at her with a playfully wicked smirk. "Heard another custom- modern one- is that the groom gets to take the garter off the bride, but he can't use his hands."

Her stomach tingled as he left a halo of kisses on it, then trailed down to one thigh, stopping just above the knee, teeth on white lace. "You have a talented mouth," she managed to squeak as his tongue did something unprecedentedly wonderful to the side of her knee.

"So do you, Baby. Your turn to show me in a minute."

* * *

Buffy loved this. The laughter, the sweetness, and the sheer need for each other got them snuggled up together, lips having explored each other briefly. But she hadn't wanted it to be all giggling and banter.

He knew that. Too serious to laugh over. Too beautiful not to enjoy. He smiled down on her tenderly as their lips parted. "Keep a secret?"

"All of yours," Buffy vowed.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," Spike told her, smile gone, all seriousness. "I wanna keep you, Buffy. So-" he sat her up with him, shoulder to shoulder in the near-dark, finding her hands twined with his over their bent knees. He pulled the ring from her hand, making her gasp. "Will you be mine? My wife?"

She didn't have a ring in return. She only had herself. "I'll be yours. If you'll be mine?"

"Just like that," he whispered, pushing the ring back onto her hand. "Yes, yours."

The tingle encompassed them, made them shiver and shudder closer. "What's that?" Buffy whispered.

"I don't rightly know, but if I had to guess, I'd say the wedding ceremony officially started," Spike whispered back.

"Can I kiss the groom?"

"All over," Spike invited and found himself pulled to her warmth by her slight hands with their steel muscles. Her tongue dipped in, danced about, challenged his own, and her little mewls of desire turned into demanding huffs against his lips.

Hungry. He remembered. Harder, he heard. His fangs shifted into place while they were still kissing, breaking the skin on her lower lip, her sudden gasp and twisting broke the skin of his.

She didn't pull back, twist away, she twisted in, deeper. "Drink me. Taste me." _I'm hungry. I get fed. He needs to be fed, too, not the body, the soul. Whatever he has in him, carrying the light, the dark, whatever. We feed each other._

_Yes, taste her. Drink her. Mark her. _He growled and she only writhed closer._ That's right. Huntress. Doesn't fear the beast. She commands him. Owns him. _

_Own her._

His eyes were no longer their normal deep yellow, but something darker, red-washed under gold. "I love you. I promise you- to take such good care. Of every piece."

"I know. It's mutual." Green wasn't its normal bright, hazel-flecked shade. Her eyes were darker with desire, a dusky jungle green.

"Where my wild cat lies," Spike murmured.

She didn't find his little phrase strange in the least. She threaded her hand lazily, possessively through his hair, "Panther. Prowls up and bites- purrs against me."

Spike found himself switching from fangs to blue eyes without thought, and she didn't seem to notice or care. If blood stained their lips, it was nothing new, it was shared.

"I love you, Spike. Never leave you."

She knew every weak spot he had- and she could protect them.

"Never leave you…" _Symphony in three words. _"Baby knows all the things I like to hear."

"Which is pretty strange, isn't it?" Buffy smiled at him placidly, thumb running over his lips as they shifted from their sides to him on top, then the other side, everything clear as crystal, even though time seemed to be losing its definite edges. "A week ago, I wouldn't have imagined any of this."

"Nor would I. But- it's not so strange, Slayer. You an' me, we know just what to say because we're the set. I carry you in me, and you have me in you. Light in the darkness-"

"Dark in the light."

Another shift, back to kneeling, his hands skimming over her like a sculptor forming the curves of a vase. Voice was low. "We make the darkness safe, Pet."

"Safe with you. Safe together."

"Come with me?"

_Where are we going? _She didn't voice it aloud, as the second she thought it, she knew the answer. _Come into the dark with him, the safe, warm, dark where bodies and hearts and brains linked up, claimed each other, and found themselves bound. Not in chains. In safety nets. _

_Dracula shackles. Spike straps on my parachute. _"I love you so much!" Buffy suddenly burst out, kissing him hard. "I'll go with you, anywhere."

"Take you wherever you want to go." A tiny nagging thought cut into his mind, then his heart._ She's not a vampire. Do these vows count? I act like they will, she believes they will, but- _

"_Spike?"_

"Buffy?"

"You're supposed to take me with you. You went far away. Bring you back to me." She led him home with hot, longing kisses, kneading, pulling hands, moving from shoulders to chest to rear and erection, stroking and cupping as he did the same to her. She lifted her knee and scooted up, let him lift her with a sharp grunt, rub her soaking heat to his lukewarm crown.

"You're not a vampire," Spike whispered, stopping himself from entering that dreamed of paradise.

"I'm not going to be one."

"I know that. I want- I want this to be real, Buffy. Dammit. Shouldn't, but I-"

"Shhh. Yes, we should. And if I wasn't a vampire, me loving you and biting you wouldn't have any kind of hold on you. But I do." Confidence swelled in her heart and puffed out her chest. "You can't stand to think of this breaking. You want to be with me. I'm in your system. You told me that it was hard to place a hold on someone, that it takes all kinds of mental control and love and power… That's between two vampires. We do hard. We do hardest. I'm more than human. I'm not part demon, but I have the demon's strength. I have some kind of dark power, some kind of light power. Just like you. We can do this. You just have to show me how."

_Show her. I don't know how._ "Gimme a minute, Luv."_ Let the instincts run the show. _

She had the same thought. The kissing and stroking turned from loving and lingering to insistent and purposeful. His fingers stroked through her curls and parted her lips, making her gasp and buck up into him.

"No one else. Not like I will. Not as far or hard or deep." He hesitated, then rubbed lower, second opening, making her eyes widen, but she didn't move back, only moved in, clinging. _She trusts me. Of course she does. Could never hurt my bride. _"Shh. No, not unless you want me to, just petting you. Every piece of you, I'll make feel good. Burn in a good way. Touch you inside," his fingers moved back to her sweet pink channel and slipped firmly inside, pressing down and in, "where all that pretty darkness is hiding, wrapped in all your sunshine."

"Then come in and visit. No, come in and stay."

"Yesss," he hissed through gritted teeth as she slid her hips slightly suggestively, up and down him. _Fucking herself on my fingers, my wife wants me so bad._ "Come in and stay? Forever?" he led with a sweet but naughty twinkle in his eyes.

"Duh, yes," she responded with the same tone.

"Say the other bit."

"Come in and- oh," her cheeks flamed as he lifted her up and back, now kneeling over her, fingers still buried in her. "That part happens at the end," she spasmed on his hand and slid her calves over the back of his, trying to draw him in.

Didn't work. Found him suddenly nuzzling her breasts and slipping down her, nibbling and sucking a trail of skin to her pouting pinkness, briefly lapping at it before his head nudged her firmly on the hip. "Luv, can we-" Spike sounded desperate and mildly confused.

Like a cat butting its head under your hand, wants to be petted, Buffy thought as she stroked his face and rolled to her side. She was surprised when Spike slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her up to her knees. His hand came around her front, cupped and kneaded a breast before latching onto her neck softly, thumb stroking insistently at her bite.

_Demon mates. Mounts._ Spike pushed her shoulders forward, watching as her palms hit the bed and she squared her hips with a gasp. "There it is." Soon as he saw the back of her neck, where the soft pad of flesh met her shoulder, his fangs burst out._ Demon marks. Owns. Put her like this so she's mine. The bite where she can't return it- what? What the fuck is wrong with me? _

He watched how willingly she stretched back, arched up into him, so loving, all of her body loving all of his. _We both hate being controlled, hearts mucked about with, owned and not cared for, not equal in it_.

"Spike? Ready?"

"Interference, Luv, sorry." _That was an owner's bite. One that couldn't be reciprocated, one that the partner, the bitee, couldn't control. Not the bite for her. Or me._ He left a journey of kisses, hitting each notch of her backbone, down between her cheeks, lapping once into her tunnel before slipping up against her, and then sighing. "Wanted to make sure I gave the back as much love as the front."

He was lying, or rather, not telling the whole truth, but Buffy didn't mind. When he sat back, she faced him and saw some sort of regret in his eyes, flicker of guilt, not aimed at her, with himself."Hm?"

"Think- think sometimes the demon side gets a little pushy. Or maybe it's me. I do love you bein' mine. But I love the idea of bein' yours just as much."

"Then make me yours." His mouth opened, another explanation for her, one she didn't need. "Trust you. Shh. It'll work out." _For once in my life- something with a guy- no, with this guy, this one and only one, is going to work out._

* * *

He looked down at this gift, this woman for him, all spread and waiting, inviting. "Good enough to eat," he winked. Then the seriousness flickered back in. "Hungry, Luv?"

"Always for you."

"B'lieve a toast is in order on the wedding night. But the bride and groom are supposed to drink together. Bridal cup, one chalice from which two sip?" He took her hand grandly, drawing her back up. This would be the last time she rose as an unwed woman.

Flashes of a dream passed before her eyes. Cup brimming with blood, and she had pushed it away, worrying, not this much. Dracula wanted it all, all of her blood, draining her. Spike wanted all of her, filling her back up, filling the empty spots. "That's right. Together."

It wasn't complicated. He'd thought somehow it would be complicated to line this up, but it really wasn't. She tilted her head and found his neck, right at the decades-old bite, he moved a few inches lower than normal, nestled into her shoulder. "Harder this time," he whispered. "You, not me."

"I know." She did. _My man. _My_ mark. _

Eyes shifted to meet at an angle, her above him, fingers digging into his white shoulders as he gripped bronzed arms.

She saw him speaking before she heard the words, pale lips making shadows on her skin, writing sacred oaths into her surface before sending them deep into her bloodstream where they'd curl around her heart and never leave.

"Blood of my blood. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Mine, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond." Spike's head was poised, waiting.

_Of course. Vows are not one-sided, not if you do it right._ "Blood of my blood. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Yours, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond." Buffy bent to bite, and he stopped her, a frantic shake of his head.

"What?" she whispered. "What'd I do wrong?"

"Nothing. Only- you have to do it, too. I don't own you. You don't own me. We're a set. Light an' dark, Slayer."

She got it. _Right. _"Blood of my blood, Spike. William. Heart's blood. Life's blood. My blood. Mine, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond."

The electricity ran up his spine and into fangs that emerged without thought, "Yours! Yes, Blood of my blood. Heart's blood, life's blood, my blood. Yours, ever and always, past life and death, to a second life and beyond, Slayer, Buffy!"

"Our circle be unbroken," she licked her teeth. Something would be different this time.

"She in me and me in she." His hand gripped the back of her head harder than customary, tension and excitement giving him strength he hadn't called on in years.

"Forever."

"Eternally."

"Two as one." They spoke the words and lived them, two voices eerily, sweetly reflecting each other, as one.

"I love you." That wasn't in the vows. He knew that. Had to say it.

"I love you, too." That was truth. It belonged in her wedding vows.

"Now?" It wasn't just a question if she were ready.

Which she understood. "And forever."

Snick - snap. Plunge, hiss. Her teeth sliced into his skin, piercing scars and breaking vessels.

His fangs went in high on her breast, his head bowed at an incline so her own dipped head could find his mark and put hers over it. Drank from her deep, just over the heart, and pushed her off balance, both of them flailing and falling apart at the bite- both lips stained red as they kissed and he slid on top of her.

Made her mine. Then in her, all the way, sharp and hard at once, unable to keep away anymore.

Buffy let out a long, low moan as he filled her, entered her deep and fully, one long pump that made her walls spasm painfully as they adjusted.

_All his. Both parts, because he was right, in so deep, I'm splitting._ She had this thought as she felt waves of strain and pleasure coursing through her, that turned all to pleasure as she watched him writing above her, panting and gasping like he couldn't find words. Couldn't breathe. Drowning in her.

She found the words. Found the air. "Breathe for you. Heart beats for you. All of me, for you."

"All of me, for you." He lifted his head from where it had bowed, smiling into her eyes. "God, you feel amazing. Feel so tight and hot, Slayer." He had expected to have this huge, blinding satisfaction because he was bedding a human, so much hotter, wetter, tighter. Yeah, there was that, but more importantly- it was _her._ _My girl. My bride._ "Most beautiful, tightest, hottest little body…" he pushed against her, jaw clenched as her walls had a brief tug of war between repelling him and accepting him.

"That would be the fact that you're really huge." Buffy shifted. "Not complaining. Just… not used to it." _It must be the muscley-ness of Spike. It extends to the pelvic region. Riley is taller. And Angel- _Spike shifted in her and she blotted out all other faces. "Oh fuck, Spike…" she let out a ragged sound of pleasure. There was no way he could fail to make her cum, repeatedly. There was no room in her to avoid him pressing against every cluster of nerves, every hidden spot that gave pleasure. Even her opening, stretched so tight around him, seemed to tingle in a good way, a good burn.

"Fuck Spike? That's reserved for my wife." Spike revelled in the word. Saying it. _She is now._ "You are now. Ha. Mine."

"Ha. Mine!" she countered, and nipped his shoulder blade and they grappled as he began to move in and out, slowly at first, watching her little gasps of sensation, not pain.

"It's not that I'm big. Well, not out of the -"

"Don't you dare try to be humble. It doesn't work on you," Buffy groaned, hips rocking up.

"It's that you're so fucking tight. Muscles on you- you could make me pop in three seconds, if you wanted to."

"I'll try that sometime. But not now." Buffy captured his lips. "For now…"

He understood. For now, no more words were needed.

* * *

Buffy hazily thought that Spike had been right. He'd said he would touch her deep, where no one else could. It wasn't sheer size or depth. It was the feeling of being his. When he moved her body, or she moved his, it felt natural, easy. Perfect. Two as one. She seemed to know what to do or what he wanted to do before he did it.

He plastered himself to her and rutted inside her, harder, harder, letting her silk wrap around him, her skin and her slick wet walls. Caution was gone. This wouldn't hurt either of them. He let out a little growl and bit down with blunt teeth, nipples captured and peaked until she squeezed his cock with pulsing walls, fluttering in orgasm.

She pushed him to his back, one hand on his throat, the other on his chest, nails digging in, scraping skin, making him arch up into her.

Buffy looked down at him, his mouth open, eyes half-closed with pleasure and effort. He reached up and traced her face and she snared his fingertips with her panting lips as they passed, tongue flicking over the pads of his fingers. "Cum in me," she urged.

"Not yet," Spike gasped back, but his cock throbbed and swelled at the thought.

"In so deep." Her head tipped back. She must look quite the picture, Buffy thought, straddling him, head thrown to the sky, hips circling on him. _Riding him. Fucking him until this bed can't take it. Until I can't take it._

"Harder, please, Luv." He wanted every bit of that power. "Give it back to you, give as good as I get…"

She settled herself forward, watching the spasms of near-orgasm clench his jaw. "Gonna make you cum in me. I already came on you."

"Felt that. Love that feeling." Her little pussy bucked and squeezed and shook- surprised her as much as him. _No one ever fucked her properly before, but don't think it would matter if they had. She wouldn't have let herself go, not like she does with me. Safe with me._

"You can feel it again in a second." Buffy crashed forward, spine suddenly needing to for leverage. Her hips had to pound his, to give him what he wanted. To get what she wanted. "Listen to you," Buffy marveled, struggling to find air for words. All pants and purrs, moaning her name under his struggle for unneeded breath.

"Unh!" He didn't need air, still couldn't speak.

He grunted sharply before the sound turned into a pained growl. She felt his tip expand just a fraction, but it sent her shaking over the edge, knowing she was about to be filled. "Love you," she whispered in his ear- and then bit savagely on the bruised skin of his neck.

_Fucking fireworks_, Spike let out a hoarse groan and slammed his hands to her hips, holding her writhing pussy in place as he spilled inside, long, painfully hard bursts while he was trapped inside her. "Love you." she didn't release him from her body.

Aftershocks shook her and he soothed her, warm hands kneading comfortingly on her tender waist.

"Here, Baby. Lemme-"

"Stay in for a minute." She gave him a saucey look as he began to move.

"Don't even think I need a minute." Spike remained hard, though less so. "I'll stay inside, Precious. But you need looking after. You did all the work at the end."

"Not so sure about that, but you looking after me is a good thing."

Back over top of her, Spike suddenly noticed something. The room seemed- different? "Luv- we-"

Buffy looked around. The bed was several feet lower. "Did we break the bed?"

"Nah. Just made it easier to reach the floor," Spike kidded. He was glad he'd paid in cash and hadn't bothered with a proper name and address, of course.

"Oops."

"Glad we didn't break _your_ bed. Or mine. Better get some more energy out- but it can come out slowly this time, yeah? Softer. Sorry, Pet, should the first time have been softer?" Spike belatedly wondered. He kissed her sweating hairline, hugged her up close, moving in her again. Their bodies made a wet, slick sound, proof of their enjoyment, and she hid her brow on his collarbone. "Oh, Precious… I'll make this time -"

"It was perfect. Perfect and hot and yummy. I want to do that forever- but softer is nice, too. Slower." Buffy looked up at him with lazy eyes and cheeks aglow from rushing blood and exertion, feeling the movements of him inside of her, losing the thread of where he ended and she began.

After several moments of gentle stroking, they both seemed to move into a faster pace, mutually agreeing without discussing.

"What time is check out?" Buffy suddenly asked as they shifted positions once again. This time, face to face on their sides, hands twined on pillows as her legs wrapped around his hips.

"I dunno. I only worried about check-in," Spike panted. _Too busy worryin' about gettin' her here, not takin' her away. One day, take her someplace properly away, see the world, plenty of nasties to kill along the way...But maybe she wants to get home. Check on Finn. Check in with what the hell time it is? Is it night?_ "We can leave whenever you want to."

"Oh no, I'm in no hurry to go. I just realized- we could go for a very, _very_ long time."

"Well, we will, Luv. You an' me go on forever." He took a finger, ran it over the last trickle of blood from the scored, torn skin she left on his throat. Fine line, red ring, and he traced the little crimson trail around her left ring finger. "Mine."

"Yours."

She found the more free-flowing font of her own blood across her breast and made the same circle on him. "I was worried I didn't have a ring for you. But, here we go. We have all we need. Literally. There." She closed the circle with a kiss on his knuckles. "Mine."

"Yours."

The newlyweds slid their hands back together, foreheads bowing, lips meeting as they made love. Neither one noticed that their "rings" slowly sank into their skin, a permanent, invisible sign of their union.

To be continued…

* * *

_Hi Readers, Vampire in Vegas has a smutty sequel, Vampire in Vegas: Quartet by S.C. Principale. (It's a short story, but about twice as long as the first.) I hope if you enjoyed the first one, you'll check this out! It's free with Kindle Unlimited and cheap if not. Also, a CrossRealms: Encounters story is coming out in a couple weeks. Thank you all for the support. You make my day!_


	18. Part XVIII

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all..._

_Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, Cjtotts, .792, and the kind guest reviewers._

**Part XVIII**

They dozed after several more sessions, both torrid and tender. They lay beside each other, hands clasped now. "I can't move," Buffy realized with a laugh.

He looked at her critically. He bit his lip. His bride was covered in scratches, bites, and bruises. He knew he hadn't hurt her and he found such evidence very… arousing. But to the outside world, he would look like the same sort of wanker Drcaula was. Using a bride for his pleasure, when she should be cherished, revered.

"Do you hurt?" Buffy had been eyeing him with the same sort of stare. "It looks like I went ten rounds on parts of you. Not _that _part, thank God."

"Was just worryin' about you, Luv. Mine'll fade in hours."

"Mine, too. Another part of the 'match.'" She grinned.

"I think I might recover faster. I do have the finest fuel in creation in me." He weakly rolled, and then decided he ought to do a bit of purposeful cherishing. Scooted down to kiss her stomach and her matted curls, then settled between her legs.

"Spike!"

"What?"

She wanted to protest that after their marathon of sex that she needed a chance to clean up, but realized that wouldn't bother Spike in the slightest. And actually- the taste of her own essence, or his, was not unpalatable to her, either. "My turn next."

"Absolutely." Spike smirked at her, and then lowered his mouth. He kept his eyes up, watching her reaction as he gently sucked her clit into his mouth. Her hands went straight to her tender nipples, rubbing them in soft circles. "Squeeze 'em for me, Pet? My hands are busy."

Buffy felt her pussy twitch. Putting on a show for Spike. It was good, hot tingle of pleasure. Something exhbitionist, but only for one loving audience member. She obeyed.

"Kitten has a lovely cream-filled center now. Open your pussy for me, Luv?" Spike Had to slide his hips to accommodate his suddenly painfully hard cock. Her hips widened. "Love how you taste. Love how I taste, after I've been nestled in you." His tongue dragged across her folds and dipped into her center. She gasped and rolled her nipples. "Pinch or pull?"

Buffy considered. Never had before. "Pull," she confessed after a second of experimentation.

"Thank you for teachin' me, Pet."

Buffy nodded, bottom lip between her teeth.

"Squeeze. These muscles," Spike murmured, fingers sliding into her heat, so much wetter than he'd ever felt it.

She pushed onto his hand, feeling a rush of wetness burst from her. He lapped it up greedily, and kept lapping, fingers dancing on her already over-sensitive walls.

He came out of his delectable dream when she whimpered. Her orgasm was quick and hard, but her muscles seemed to weaken instantly after. "Oh, Slayer. You need sleep, proper sleep. And we were gonna go out for dinner. Not thinkin', I-"

Buffy cut over his worried apology. "I'm hungry for you. And you'd better feed me. You, up here, now."

"Already a henpecked husband," Spike sighed with a syrupy chortle at the end. She sat herself up in the nest of battered, once pristine pillows.

"Stop that!" Buffy smacked his rear lightly as he kneeled before her.

"Oooh, I'll have to be naughty- a- gain...oooh. Never mind." He left off teasing as she slid her lips over his tip, eyes boring into him as she sucked him into her mouth.

Buffy pulled back. Traces of her own sweetness had dried on his skin, and she made a show of delicately tonguing them off, flicking and darting on him, circling without putting him in her mouth again. He whimpered as she tongued the slit of his crown, catching a clear, sticky drop of his arousal. Tongue flippantly ignoring his eager thrusting toward her, and she complacently licked her way over the sensitive ridge where it met his shaft.

"Please, Luv…" Spike wondered if you could actually go insane from this torture. Her little lips were now ghosting past him- down to his sack, ponderously kissing and nibbling back up the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

"Need to be stroked?" Buffy let her hands caressed his strong thighs and tight rear, but didn't touch his erection. She lifted his own hand pointedly to his waist.

He took the hint eagerly. She gave him a little show._ She wants one. _He pumped himself slowly, loving her heated, intent gaze. "Good, Slayer?"

"You tell me."

"Very good. Not as good as someone's soft, hot mouth, or softer, hotter little puss, but…"

Her own hand strayed down and her knees came up. She rubbed herself softly as he pumped and stroked.

"Likes a little more wetness, if you'd oblige. Feels better."

Buffy was glad for the "excuse" to taste him again. She nudged his hand away and sucked on him, weaving her tongue around a bit extra to make him slippery.

"That's it," he groaned and stroked harder. He was surprised to feel her head bumping his hand. She was licking and kissing her way across his inner thigh, back to the tightening stones beneath, nipping them before she bit at his fist and took over the job with her hungry mouth.

"You are the_ best_ wife in the _world,_" Spike all but whimpered when she took him in deep and dragged her teeth across him on the final stroke._ Wife. She's mine. _He felt suddenly woozy.

"Spike!" Buffy scrambled to her knees as he fell back with a thump.

"You did it. You married me. I married you. We- I - Not in the weddin' gowns and top hats way, but…"

"That's still a good thing, right?" Buffy felt her voice shrink to almost nothing.

"It's the best thing! I just can't believe you did it!"

"Me, either, actually. But it's a very, very happy kind of disbelief. Like, if I'd never tasted chocolate until this year, and I was like 'Man, I've been missing out on chocolate for 19 years, it's about time.' Can't believe I waited so long. Only- we didn't really wait long."

"Oh, yes we did. Waited all the years we've _had _on this planet to fall in love, find real love. That's as long as a person_ can _wait, after all."

"Part of me knows that you're a BS artist- but the rest of me thinks you're totally right."

"Wanna find out about another thing I'm good at it?" He raised one eyebrow and led her back to his chest. She giggled and he sighed. Making love with his wife was going to be his new favorite hobby. Every spare moment, feed that hunger she's unleashed, fill up the empty spots, satisfy his bloodlust in a whole new way every night, every- "Shit! Slayer, you still live with your mum! I'm gonna go mad bein' away from you at night. Sod! Happy home an' all that, what kinda home are we-" He stopped abruptly. _Do we do that? Do we do that happy home bit?_

Buffy hushed him as he ended mid-sentence. "Shh. I move into the dorms next week. You stay with me and I'll stay with you. Some couples have two homes. I mean, usually it's like a nice summer place at the beach, but we can do a crypt and a dorm. That'll work for now. Right?"

"Right!" Spike let out a shuddering rush of air. "Right, that'll work."

Buffy nestled into his arms. _This is wonderful. Really. But it_ is _going to be hard to hide._

_Hm. Maybe not hiding it would have some uses._ "Do you think Dracula would fly his caped behind up here in a fit of jealous rage if he thought I was married?"

"Yes. I don't think he knows how extraordinary you are, Luv. As far as I'm concerned, you can place one hell of a hold, Slayer. He prob'ly is sittin' at home, fumin', scowlin', but thinking he has nothing to worry about. Probably imagines your human self can't 'wed' a vampire."

"Hm. What if he thought I was going to wed a vampire in a regular ceremony? I mean, then I'd be married to you in a non-vampire way. I know he totally disregards those pesky bigamy laws," they exchanged a grin, "but he'd probably feel like he ought to do something about my attempt to get hitched right under his nose? Right?"

"He is the male chauvinistic type, the 'I own three wives' sort of bloke. Probably take your blatant disregard for his desire to make you his new missus rather poorly. Fuss and rant a bit," Spike's voice was playful, but their minds were serious. How to guarantee a visit from the hard to pin down guest? Make him angry enough to show up.

"But we have to wait a little bit," Buffy regretfully realized. "There's no point in luring him up here, just to lose in another tie game."

"You- would you want to do that? Oh, we just let the word get 'round that we're having a-"

"What do you mean, want to do that?" Buffy scooted back up on the mattress, peering down at him.

He tilted his chin up at her and liked that she instantly bit her lip. _Kitten likes this handsome face. But not enough to wreck her social circle in such a public way. _"Well- your mates'd have to play along that we were actually gettin' hitched, they couldn't-"

"Spike."

"You have a very annoyin' habit of cuttin' me off in mid-sentence, Slayer."

"You have a very bad habit of saying dumb things. I just- we just got married in the permanent way. I mean- we said it's permanent. Don't you think it is?"

He scrambled up beside her, hands on her arms. "Precious, it's as permanent as it can be, I promise. We don't need a wedding unless you want one. This- this outweighs any wedding the mortal world can dish out."

"I don't know if it outweighs it- I am one of the mortal types after all- but it sure as heck is close."

"All your mates, your mum, Rupert- they'd think you'd lost your mind."

"Then it'll be a really small guest list."

"You can't give them up for me. You'd be sad. We don't have to do it for real, letting Drac _think_ we are is enough to get him here."

"But I want to. And I won't give them up. They'll deal. You're their family, too." Deliberate gaze burned into him and her nails dug in, four sharp streaks over his heart, the little rush of pain that heralded the start of pleasure making him moan. "Blood of my blood is blood to me."

He dug his fingers into her hair as she bent her head, licked and kissed the tiny marks above his heart. _Already cut an ocean, a cosmos into my heart, ingrained in, built in, stayin' in, forever… _"I would marry you any day, any night, any place, for any reason," he breathed out, holding her tight. "Only didn't want to push you. Knew that this might be the only ceremony we'd have or want, and I'm fine with it. But if you want more, Slayer, you can have more. You can have it all, anything I can give."

Buffy found herself falling back, under him, around him, all thoughts of sleep or rational discussion and planning gone. _How did Drusilla let him go? Ever? _"I'm never going to let you go. You did know that, right?" Buffy gasped as he burrowed inside again, slightly achy muscles working against him, working against the tightness into a whole new level of pleasure.

No one had ever made such a promise. "I can't believe it, but I know it, if that makes sense," he laughed incredulously against her, forehead to forehead.

"Hmm. Just have to keep proving it," Buffy whispered.

* * *

"Buffy."

Riley blinked. He wanted to say Buffy. What came out instead was a wounded lowing sound.

"Steady, Agent Finn. Your surgery was a complete success and you're in recovery, doing great! We're going to help you get that tube out in a few hours, okay? No, no, trying to talk around it won't work. Just relax. I'll get you a pen and paper."

Beeping sounds. He tried to move. Failed. Hands restrained. His eyes flew open. "Nnn!"

"That's so you don't pull out your tubes. You have a bunch right now. The first tube comes out when you start breathing on your own." At his panicked look, the nurse in blue-scrubs continued to explain in a soothing voice. "Remember? After heart surgery, the ventilator tube helps you breathe. You're already doing great! We don't want to take it out too soon, or we just have to put another one in. I'll get your hands free, and then you can write notes- well, as soon as your eyes focus again. Your doctor will be in shortly to see how you're doing.

Riley weakly moved his eyes. No Graham next to him. No Brown. No Buffy. No parents. Right. Classified. Just out of major surgery, heart surgery, no flocking visitors allowed. Irrational anger warred with calming, drugged thoughts.

_That doesn't matter. She's the strongest girl in the universe. She wanted to get Oz out, she broke into the most secure facility in the world. She wanted to stop Adam, and she did. She found out where her friends were taken when they got kidnapped and stuff like that._ He wondered if his muscles were slack or if he really had just tried to pout around his tube, sulking because she hadn't demanded, barged, and battled her way down to check on him.

_Well, no. Because you're safe and safely having much needed life-saving surgery. No need to rescue or barge or defeat. You told her you'd call as soon as you could. She trusts you._

_Which is more than she can say about you. You don't want her to see Giles alone in her bedroom._

_Duh! Her bedroom, man. Creepy older guy hanging out with a bunch of teen women- don't tell me there's not something nasty in his head._

_Don't want her to go see the ex. _

_Who would want that? Moving on._

_Didn't trust her to be alone. Sent Brown to watch her, make sure she didn't head to LA, or have Angel come up and do his mattress tango with a side of biting._

_But she can do whatever she wants now, right? She told you to let her go. She dumped you, man._

_No! That's not what she meant. _

_Well, even if she said it, it isn't true. Not what she meant. It's the hold. The vampires, always the damned vampires, owning her heart, her head, her body and her past, present, and future! _

"He's spiking! Sinus rhythm is going tachy!"

"Shit- the doctor said the heart was normal."

_Heart was normal. _She's _not normal. Surrounded by abnormal, warping her, corrupting her. _

_She can't leave me. I can't let her do that._

* * *

"I really can't guarantee anything."

"That seems awfully convenient. You don't guarantee much, do you, Angel?"

"Look, why are you on my case? You don't want me around her. You put your hand on a stack of Bibles and tell me you want me to come back and be with her."

"Who said I want any such thing? I want what help you can _actually _provide. You can make people talk."

"I'm not like that anymore. I help the -"

"-helpless, I know, your 'office staff' bleats it at me every time I phone. Buffy isn't helpless. She needs help all the same."

"I got you the name, I'm looking for the woman!" Angel grit his teeth. He really wanted to offer to help her in the physical way. His demon seemed to slink around his soul, prowling in the shadows, winking golden eyes and licking sharp teeth. _Go ahead. Offer to bite her. Offer to help her. Claim her. You've had that sweet little body too few times. A deeper act of intimacy, isn't that what's required to break a hold? What she could do for you... Does the curse consider a little lipservice "perfect happiness"? _

Angel shut the demon down in revulsion, despair and shame filling him to the pit of his stomach. It was even more repulsive that his soul, the whoring, drinking, layabout he'd once been, was feeling tempted to ask Giles if maybe he ought to just help out in the more tangible and immediate- and pleasurable way. He bit back a growl. _My beautiful Buffy. Never to be used like that. Never anything but sweet, innocent-_

_ Sleeping with Dracula if she doesn't get this broken_. That disturbing image of Dracula sinking fangs into his Buffy, smoky blue eyes, charismatic voice, all of that wooing and plying Buffy into bedding down with him- Angel growled much more audibly.

"Don't waste your time growling at me. You've threatened me with a chainsaw, remember? If it hadn't been for Spike, I don't doubt you'd have used it."

Shame overtook anger and everything else again. Being compared to Spike? Spike coming out as the better of the two? Shame had reached new depths- and he'd been in hell.

"Yeah, yeah, that wasn't me. A vampire without a soul is nothing but an evil demon. Speaking of which, don't let Dracula fool her, Giles. He may talk about love and -"

"What in God's name are you prattling on about?" Giles was beyond irritable at this point. Travers was due at noon tomorrow. Buffy had phoned around dawn and said she and Spike were laying low together after Riley's "friend" had tailed them. Right now- he wanted two things. Action. And sleep. Action from others, allowing_ him _to sleep properly without the phone clutched to his chest or head pillowed on some obscure text.

"Dracula! He tricked her into letting him bite her. Don't let him fool you, or her. He might be backing off in distance, but he'll worm his way into her head somehow. It's what he's good at. He likes them to beg for it." _I liked that, too. Begging for it to end, no more, let me die… He likes when they beg to be turned, beg to be his, be with him._

_ Buffy begged to be with me. Love me, stay with me…_

Unknowingly, Giles' sharp voice cut into Angel's dawning realization. "Oh, will he? Dreams? Mental manipulation from afar?"

"Exactly!" Angel pounced on the understanding with relief.

"And just when were you planning to mention that? When you refused to help her break his hold the first time? Or one of the half dozen phone calls we've exchanged this week?" Giles' voice radiated nuclear levels of distaste. Buffy had already endured that. Frankly, it sounded like she might well have died from it, if Spike hadn't happened to be there.

_In her room at night? Her home at night? _

_ Privacy to bond, to bite, to do- intimate things._

His mind rebelled at the possibilities, but oddly enough, it was a short-lived revolution. The idea of Buffy embracing an unsouled Dracula or a souled Angel were suddenly more unpalatable than a chipped Spike.

Even an unchipped one. Without really delving into it, Giles had the instinctive knowledge that Spike was utterly loyal to Buffy and wouldn't hurt her or go against her wishes in any way.

"I- uh- I've been researching more, that's all. I figured you might have known already."

"How remarkably convenient for you," Giles said drily.

"Okay, that does it. I'm helping you out because I love Buffy and I feel bad that I can't help her like you want me to! I'm not gambling with my soul, I know my weakness! Putting up with your snooty British snideness isn't part of the deal!"

"Snide, am I? I suppose I am. I've been a little stressed of late. Monitoring the situations here has become - increasingly complicated." _Secrets. Break ups. Wiccan oaths and calling circles, spells and dark magicks. Heart surgeries. Family bonding. Falling in love. Oh Lord, they are… he's in love, and she'll love him back, with that grateful, scarred heart. The heart he won't hurt. _

"Giles! GILES!" Angel barked the name for perhaps the fifth time and the other man finally deigned to respond.

"What?" Giles snapped testily, tangled thoughts broken.

"Is she worse? What did he do?"

"Who?" Giles clamped his mouth shut. What had he said? Had he been musing out loud?

"Dracula! Why is it more complicated, what's he been doing?" Angel yanked his coat off the back of his chair, toppling it in the process- then standing still, raging impotently. Go to Sunnydale, fight the bastard, save her!

_Yeah. Already been asked to do that and said no. What can I do that I'm not already doing?_

"Well, he's attacked her through their connection- but she seems to have rallied some strength and managed to halt that for now," Giles replied with vague honesty.

"He's going to be back to full strength soon."

"Yes, I know. Hence my 'snide' pressuring. I want a timeline, Angel. I know that may seem impossible- but as I recall, you opened an apocalyptic portal on Earth and brought out Cordelia Chase's pleasant and unselfish side. I don't know which thing I consider more of a feat, but I have no doubt that you will have the location of the Dracula's ex-wife in two days time- before Travers' leaves. I need to have bargaining chips."

"Why?"

"Because," Giles removed his glasses, " thinking that the Slayer is weak and under the control of one of the most notorious vampires in history will be just the excuse Travers is looking for."

"To do what? Kill the bastard? Like to see him try, if Buffy couldn't."

"No, the Council hasn't sent a Slayer after him, so I doubt they'd fault Buffy for trying to do what they've never managed. No, I fear that they may use this as an excuse to… relocate Buffy. A turned Slayer is a liability of epic proportions. A vampire-controlled Slayer is only slightly less damning."

"Relocate? As in imprison her in the Council buildings or some secret Watcher's prison?"

Giles was quiet.

"Why didn't you tell me!?"

"If you wouldn't help the one woman who has saved your life dozens of times and who is the only person you claim to love- why in heaven's name would I think that mattered to you?"

Valid point, Angel conceded inside his head, hand urgently raking his hair. "Three days?"

"Location. Information would be preferable. And we'll have a spell to ascertain if she's telling the truth. We need you to tell us the moment you have her or you're meeting with her. Have Wesley or Cordelia call us and we'll cast the spell from here. We know her name and her likeness, so it should work long-range. If not, you can bring her to us or we'll come to you. Travers may well be over here offering to help. But I know him. He likes control. He will use the one time in over a year that Buffy's actually requested help as an attempt to regain some form of power over her. Benevolent or despotic, I can't say."

"But you don't trust him?"

"I trust very few people at this moment," Giles informed him acerbically. _Surprisingly enough, I do trust Spike. I trust the "bad man" more than I trust the three "good men", Travers, Angel, or Finn, who purportedly want to help her._

"Is Spike still in town?" Angel demanded.

"Er- yes, I believe so."

"Don't let him find out about this. A weakened slayer would be catnip to him. He may be sporting some skull hardware, but he's not above making deals and double crosses."

"Yes, I've seen that. Funnily enough, they often benefit the Slayer - in the end."

Angel made a startled noise.

Giles smiled. If he and Spike had one thing in common, it was the fact that they had no love for the brooding vampire who'd hurt women they cared about. "Three days. Can you deliver?"

"I'll deliver."

"Very well. Do make sure she can still speak at the end. I was reminded that you tend to forget what you're doing when you're enjoying yourself."

"She'll talk," Angel said shortly. He hung up, shoulders heaving as he flung his coat on and marched out past Cordelia, startling her and making Wesley yelp like a frightened seal.

"Where are you going?" Cordelia demanded, clattering after him on her stilettos.

"Out!" To the Oracles. He reversed his trajectory, walked over to Cordelia's desk and emptied out her pencil cup- in actuality a very old piece of silver taken from the Siege of Caffa and he'd take it off of a plague demon over the summer. He didn't have the heart to tell Cordelia the thing she was storing her pens and lipgloss in could buy a convertible.

"My stuff! Ah- that was the last tube of a discontinued couture line! Get your broody behind back here, Mister!"

"Need a tribute! Wes- get those shackles out of the basement?"

"Er-hrm- are you going evil this afternoon?" Wesley inquired with a tentative cough.

Angel drew up short. Was he? Torturing information out of someone was evil. Doing it to save Buffy was good. "I'm not sure. They're for a guest. Or prisoner. Or guest. It's kind of - up in the air," he shrugged and grunted past Cordelia with an apologetic huff.

"Chaining the boss to the bed is only a one time thing!"Cordelia protested as she landed on her rear. Wesley gasped at her remark and she gave him one of her best "You idiot" glares. "Hey. Stop that. You remember when he went evil with the happy pills?"

"Ahh, that. Angel, really, if this is about the work you're doing for Buffy-"

"That's right. It's for Buffy. So- deal with it. We need to know how to kill Dracula. We know the lady who probably knows that answer. I make her tell me everything she's got, one way or another."

"Ohhh, the vampire lady. That's okay then. They poof. Not a lot of blood."

"Oh no, plenty of blood," Angel pushed down a smile of savage fondness. "They bleed until they're ashes, nothing but blood and cinders left."

"Ohhh-kay," Cordelia hastily got up and began gathering her purse, sunglasses, and coat. "I'm out. You sounded way too psycho killer-y for me. Wes?"

He nodded gravely, removing his glasses in that oh so pompous manner he had. "Angel, you must be careful-"

"Oh, I'll be careful. Can't dust her. Dead things- well, _dusty_ dead things, don't talk," Angel announced grimly and slammed the door after him. As he headed down to the spot where the Oracles waited, he had a nagging thought.

Who reminded Giles about his overfondness for torture? His Watcher's texts? His own memory? Buffy, Willow, Xander?

He shrugged. Didn't matter.

* * *

"Spike, it seriously doesn't matter."

"It's our wedding night! We should have it someplace fancy!"

"I didn't bring fancy clothes!"

"Yeah, I didn't, either."

"Room service means less time away from the bed…" Buffy wheedled.

"Room service means they may well _see _the bed. And the chair. And the mirror- when did we crack the mirror?" Spike looked genuinely surprised as he stopped short in front of a silver surface covered in a spiderwebbed crack. He put the local amenities guide down and looked at the floor for bits of broken glass.

"I think that happened with the chair." Buffy mused. "Yep. There's the leg, under the mirror. I hope my dorm fees don't triple this year."

"We didn't break your bed at your mum's. Nor mine. We were just- enthused. Newlyweds,' he rolled the words around in his mouth. "Newlyweds get up to all manner of exciting hijinks, don't they, Pet?"

"Hijinks galore- but not on an empty stomach," Buffy protested.

"I'm curiously full."

"You should be," Buffy giggled and blushed. She liked the sharp jolt of pleasure of his fangs slipping into her. She wondered hazily why bites had ever been painful. Now she understood why Spike practically exploded on contact when she nibbled his old siring scar.

_But it's not just there._ She eyed her body in the cracked mirror, hands lazily running over breasts and thighs, briefly darting in between. Wanted him to bite her there, she suddenly thought as her finger swiped over her swollen nub. Not on it, around it, People get their parts pierced,she gave a mental shrug, downplaying her new obsession, at least momentarily. _A fang, a little piercing gun, what's the diff? _

_A lot. They don't get off on the idea. _

_It doesn't feel so ridiculously good._

Spike came up behind her and watched her with concern.

"It's all right?" he asked, almost sounding meek. Bites dotted her thighs, one on the left, two on the right. Hadn't even been aware of doing it, lost in the joy of burying his face between her sweet folds, hearing her moaning for him, practically screeching in pleasure. An instinct, a rough swipe of his tongue, a quick bite, back to lapping, repeat thrice, and find himself under trembly legs as she planted her scalding little tunnel on him and made him whimper in pleasure and beg for her to stay on and never get off.

"It's very, very all right."

He swallowed. "Even with Drusilla, even my first time with her after, even thousands of times later, I was never- I never felt so bloody desperate to be with someone. If someone hurt my wife… think they wouldn't have to hurt me. Think I'd die on the spot, Luv, heart speared clean through, stake or no stake." He let out a sighing breath. "If I get carried away in that lust for your love, you're gonna have to tell me. Haven't come down yet. Don't know if I ever will."

Buffy leaned back into him. Bites were on her ribs, too, little shallow nips, more like the accidental prick of fangs when her husband kissed her in his vampiric face. She blinked. Spike had been in his game face while making love to her part of the time. She blinked and realized now that she had kissed him and whispered loving little words while pressed up against his ridges, held him close, panting lips to fangs, looking into his yellow eyes with as much love as his blue. "Oh, don't worry. I'm just as high on you," she admitted, voice a little unsteady.

"You need to eat. You're right, it doesn't matter. Saw a string of places up the way. It's well after dinner hour. We'd better go if we're going."

She shook her head to reassure him that it wasn't food making her voice wobble. "Why did the others hurt?"

"Oh, precious… Angelus liked a bit of pain. I'm sure he didn't mean to." Spike wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe that no one had ever hurt her there. "Finn's probably just clumsy." That he had no trouble believing.

"No, not that. I was afraid they'd hurt. Being bitten. They were painful before with the others. With you, now- it feels so good, I think- is something wrong with me?" She looked up at him in concern. "Am I getting more demony from um- being claimed?"

God, I hope not, he wanted to blurt, but he didn't, just held her tight. "Think you're just sharing my pleasure. Think maybe your body likes it a bit harder than it used to, not that it'll do you any harm. I was carried away and I-"

She spit out her confession, knowing he wouldn't mock her or tease her, just listen. "I want the bites now. Not like- on their own, I'm not going around with a red arrow on my neck or anything, but when _you_ do it, when you do it anywhere…" she trailed off with a blush. It made her wet. It made her cum, it made her close, no matter where he did it now.

"Oh. Me, too. But only with you, Kitten," he told her the truth. He'd loved biting when Dru did it to him, loved biting her. When his wife did it- it was like someone set his pleasure centers to overload. It's part of mating, the little voice inside him hinted. _You were Drusilla's creation, her lover, her warrior- not her equal, not her mate. Buffy is your mate, your true love. Your bodies crave marks and mating, ownership and possession, belonging. _

"You did the thing." Buffy turned from her reflection and looked up at him, hands languidly running over his bruised but healing body.

"What thing?"

"Where you thought of something but waited to tell me. Tell me. No secrets on our wedding night- unless they're the fun kind involving whipped cream or bubble bath or stuff like that."

"Whipped cream?" Spike placed his mouth on her shoulder with a long, tongue-swiping kiss.

"Focus."

"Mating."

"Focus on mating after you tell me!" Buffy squirmed against him. Oh. Nope. not the way to decrease mating focus. She resisted the urge to haul him back to bed.

"Feels good because it's not just marriage, it's mating. Before they had vows and fancy rings, before speech and writing- there were instincts. Protect, defend, love, mate, procreate. Demons can do that last bit, some of 'em. Once you've got a mate, you have to show that their yours, right?"

"Ohhh. Right. So, I like my love bites even more now because it's proof that you're mine?"

He cocked his head. "Well, I was gonna say somethin' a bit different, actually."

"And proof that I'm yours. You're mine. No one else is allowed to touch me," she murmured, deliberately cupping her breasts and pressing them forward. She raised one knee to rest on the outside of his hip and he took the hint.

Spike lifted her up and settled her against his lower abs, letting her work herself down if she wanted to. She did. "No one can touch me, either, Slayer," he hissed as she engulfed him.

"One more time, then dinner, I promise."

"You promised that two times ago," he reminded her, not caring, leaning back.

"Easy, baby, the table…" Buffy gasped as he slid smoothly into her and her aching emptiness grabbed on, protesting little whines into his smooth white neck when he moved in and out. She wasn't sore, she just wanted the delicious fullness to stay. She growled and bit his earlobe. "Mine. Stay in me."

"Oh hell, like I'm going to resist that!" He sat down hard and her knees hit the edge of the wood, one palm smacked to a smooth section of mirror as he breasts bounced into his face. "You stay here forever, if it suits you."

"Eventually, I'll want food."

"Room service," he panted with a smile..

"That brings us back to the bed and the mirror and the-oh, honey, move!"

Spike careened forward just in time, skidding them to the bed with a groan of loss when they separated bodies out of necessity.

"And that little table," Buffy sighed, looking at the cracked furniture under the cracked mirror. "We have to pay them back, we really do." She bit her lip and looked into his eyes pleadingly.

She looked too innocent like that, but not in the peach for the picking way, in the "pure of heart" way. He had great respect for that - recently. "You saved all of their lives a couple times by ending apocalyptic events. This hotel would be a steamin' pit in a hell dimension. Does that count as payment?"

"I… Ohhh,. Okay, yes, I think so," Buffy lost her train of reasonable thought when he returned to her, slightly cooler cock parting gloriously heated silk. "You're corrupting me," she giggled accusingly.

"You're redeeming me," he countered easily.

The lust and the playfulness slowed down. 'Really?" Buffy whispered.

"Really."

"You - you had a lot of wonderful things in you already, Spike. I know that."

"You believe that. That's why you're good, Luv. That's why I want to be good, too, in my own dark way." He kissed her and pulled back with a glowing grin. "I'm a modern man, me. Think husbands and wives should be equally powerful- and just plain equal."

"My light in the darkness," she whispered, pulling his forehead to hers.

He knew she would understand him, but he felt all the tension hiding in him slip away at her words. "My shadow in the sun," he replied, wrapping her to him, never going to let her go.

_To be continued..._

_Thank you so much for supporting my pieces, friends and readers. I have two new ones out which are free or 99 cents (Kindle Unlimited/Kindle). May they bring you some smutty, sweet fun in a rough patch! I hope you'll check out CrossRealms Encounters: A Helpful Gentleman and Vampire in Vegas: Quartet, both by S.C. Principale on Amazon._


	19. Part XIX

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, kitcat99, bellaruthless, lgpmomma, fieryscarlet, David Fishwick, DarkenedHrt101, TibiaOK, Kit-Cat 99, Cjtotts, .792, and the kind guest reviewers._

Part XIX

"Was your mother comin' home today?"

"It's not midnight-yet. It'll be tomorrow, late," Buffy made a futile attempt to tidy the bed. The bed that was now on the ground.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Wonderful."

"No dreams?"

"Not one. Too pooped, maybe. Or maybe he's getting the message. This brain is property of Buffy and Spike. Why twenty questions?"

He shrugged, feeling antsy again, the same way he'd felt when that bloke thanked him for saving his life. And what she'd just tacked on, like it was nothing- _Her mind is ours? Well… yeah. Mine is hers, too. She's been in it for days, even longer if I'm honest. _"I want to take care of you extra. Your family, too. Want 'em to know that I'm different than the others. Wouldn't use you or leave you, wouldn't change you or be unhappy with bits of you. Wouldn't take what I wanted and lock you away in some castle, either." _Care what they think. No, not about everything, not about my past, not about my habits- only about how they see me with her. Worthy of her._ Spike looked angry and bitter, a sudden scowl settling on his features.

"What?"

"Not used to carin' about what anyone thinks of me - except the one my heart wants. Feels odd. Bit sickenin'."

Buffy leaned against him, chin to his shoulder. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me. I want anyone who knows you to know that I'm not like -" she hesitated. Spike loved Drusilla in some sort of compassionate, lingering way that made her jealous, but not angry. She chose her words carefully. "I want people to know I'm yours, just yours, and I'm not going anywhere. And… I don't want to go around being Ms. Big Bad, but I feel like- I want to be a credit to you- the awesome guy who helps me and understands me. Anyone who messes with you should think twice, because they have me to deal with, too. For the first time ever, I'm okay with being a badass. Like- it's not just an act, it's a _part _of me, and it's a good part. Powerful part. You make me comfy with myself- even the dark parts. Maybe you just need time to get comfy showing off the inner light in you?" She wound her her arms around him and he scooped her closer, sides and torsos pressing.

"My wife is smart."

"So's my husband."

"Ooooo. Husband. Always thought that was such a borin' word. Reserved for portly men with small mustaches and large mortgages."

"Really?"

Once upon a time, he'd been quite eager to have the title. Never thought he'd have the inkling again. "No, not _always_. Just in recent years, I s'pose."

"And now?"

"It's right up there with the most erotic words I've ever heard."

"Funny. I was just thinking that about wife," Buffy said with mock seriousness, a look of deep reflection on her face. "I can't wait to go out and signal for the check."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Most folks like eatin' the meal more than payin' for it."

"I can't wait to show off my ring- oh." Buffy rubbed her finger with a frown. Spike's large, silver ring still sat on her forefinger, but she could've sworn she felt a slight pressure around her ring finger. She watched Spike suddenly examine his own finger. "The blood?"

"Well, it must've rubbed off. We were fairly busy. Sweat. Water. Other slick things. Somethin' must've rubbed it off," Spike consoled, still wearing a smirk. He chose not to mention the fact that he still felt it, a phantom under the skin. _What if it's all in my head? She's marking me in all kinds of ways, visible and invisible..._

Buffy finished putting on her shoes. "You feel it, too, don't you?" She didn't look up as she asked. _Maybe it's only me. He's the vampire, his hold is "real", or at least more powerful._

He stroked her hair, watching her face tilt up, loved watching the smile that he instantly earned. "I feel it, I'd swear it was there, perched right on my ring finger. An' you know why it's called that? The left hand, fourth finger was s'posed to have a vein leadin' directly to your heart. Romans called it the vena amoris, vein of love. You got the direct line to my heart, Slayer."

"And you've got mine," she whispered, trying to sound less like a blushing lovesick girl. And then going with it. "I'll never lose it, huh?"

"Can't seem to take it off," he mimed pulling at his hand. "I'll get you one the world can see, Baby."

"I like this one for now," Buffy reassured, waving her silver-ringed finger in the air, snapping at an imaginary waiter. "Can't wait to show it off- but I kind of like having a little secret, too. Kind of like us." She took his arm. _Secret wedding, secret love. Public friendship, public partnership, public bond._

"Some people find a little secret rather excitin'," Spike hissed as they exited the hotel room- fairly quickly lest anyone passing by get a glimpse of the passion-wrecked room.

"Secret, hm?"

"Little ones. Like… doing naughty things at your own reception."

She smirked back. Their "reception" would be a very late dinner at the local steakhouse. "Wait, we honestly can't do anything too _exciting_ at a restaurant. We'll get kicked out."

"Then we'll wait until after we eat… _wifey_."

"Oooh, talk dirty to me," she laughed softly and leaned against him as they prowled down the hall together.

* * *

"You dare to disturb us to meddle in your sordid affairs? Be gone, Champion. You do not have our-"

"Silver, Italian, 1300s. Taken from the Siege of Caffa. I offer this to you, All-Seeing Ones," Angel made the flattering speech with barely held impatience. "I seek-"

"It is unseemly- taken from a place of much death. It is also unseemly to arrive during our dinner hour," the female oracle said haughtily.

Angel blinked. "Oracles eat?"

"We know why you have come. You seek one of your kind, long-lived and evil, torture and anger in your heart. This is unseemly for a Champion of the Powers That Be," Brother Oracle pompously stated while turning the silver object musingly in his hand.

_Is unseemly their new favorite word?_ "It's to aid the Slayer!" Angel snapped, fists curling. Was it just him, or did the Oracles look surprised? _Maybe they don't know everything, after all._

"She is happy and safe with her new lord and master, and he is equally devoted to her, fealty and heart freely given." Sister Oracle now joined in her brother's appraising stare.

_Happy with Dracula? Dracula in love with- how?What?_ How? "It's a trick, a trap! I need to know how to kill Dracula or the Slayer will always be at risk, never mind her- happiness- with her lord and master!" I_ should be her lord and- no, not that. _His heart and brain did a complicated twist in longing and pain.

Now the Oracles were the ones looking confused. "She is free in her choosing once again."

"Ugh- no! She can never really be free again, not until Dracula is dead! Do you know how to do it? Spill. If not, point me to someone who knows, like this Countess Ana-Maria Elena Daniela Dracul chick."

The male oracle seemed to relent, touching his golden-skinned sister on the shoulder. "Sister, the Slayer never wavers in her quest. She calls the most powerful allies to her side and turns them to the good. In recent days, she has brought the Powers' plans ahead by years, sparing many lives and much suffering. Perhaps we should help the vampire."

Angel wanted to yell "Well, DUH!" in exasperation, but instead he settled for rocking from side to side, tense ball of foot to tense heel.

Sister sighed disdainfully, "Very well. The Countess you seek indeed holds the knowledge you need. She resides in Paris, the Chalais D'Aumont. She lives quietly and without killing. She takes her lovers from eager men who do not tire of her youth and beauty and they willingly supply her needs. Her home is always in the name of one of her living relatives, so no vampires may enter the house without their consent."

"Living relatives? How can she have-"

"Not all vampires close themselves off from mortal ties. We have given you more than enough information. Be careful, Champion. Your heart wavers…" Brother and sister uttered these last words together, disappearing into a flash of blue as they departed.

Angel seethed. "Great. Paris. I need a plane ticket. Or a portal. Willow'd be helpful, right now. Maybe Wes…"

* * *

"Maybe they won't notice."

"I'm pretty sure they're going to notice," Buffy hissed. "The tablecloths aren't that long, Spike."

"The place is deserted!"

"All the more reason that the servers keep staring at us, waiting for us to finish so they can go home and go to bed."

"_I_ wanna go to bed." Fingers tiptoed across her hand, over her wrist.

"I wanna eat my brownie!" Buffy felt ravenous. She supposed Spike must be all right in that regard. His energetic lovemaking came with a side of super-potent blood for him, and bursts of extreme pleasure for her. She took little swipes of his as a part of their bonding and lovemaking, loving marking him just as much, but it wasn't food to her. If she wanted to burn more calories later, she needed a top up.

"So, I'll just have to move my seat for dessert." Spike left his seat across from her and pulled his chair to the corner of the small table, sitting arm to arm with her. Then his hand slid down, past hers.

"They're going to notice anyway, because- oh- because people do not sound- oh God- this excited about brownie sundaes." Her face became flushed and voice went breathless. Spike's fingers pushed lightly between her thighs, but their strength managed to push past layers of fabric, making her feel like he was touching her skin directly. "Spike…" She wasn't even mad. Heck, she was rapidly passing even mildly, playfully annoyed and considering if anyone would notice if they left the table for a few minutes. But they might take away the sundae, so… She moved from savoring to scarfing.

"Mm, Slayer," he was just as breathless suddenly as her free hand found the hardness at his waist. "Consider it practice, Lover. The quiet game. After all, if I come to visit you at night, we'd best not wake up Joyce."

"Or she'll kill you?" Her hand froze. _Uh. Yeah That could happen._

His hand lost its pulsing, rubbing action instantly. "I wouldn't want her to think I was ever-ever hurting you." Suddenly, awful images of Joyce attacking him in mid-Buffy were assailing him. She'd think he was assaulting her daughter, and he was the one trying to help her, who loved her like no one else ever had or ever would.

Buffy shook her head and kept his hand in her lap. "Boyfriends are permitted quiet snuggles of the bedroom variety. She'll know, Spike. I'll tell her. We'll tell all of them it's a relationship, more than a friendship. We'll just pace things for them."

"They'll think it's the bond."

"Then we'll brea- no. Then we'll just prove it over the years. Right? There will be years?" Hands locked and eyes were wide.

"Of course, Precious. And you're right. We'll prove it other ways." _Can't break this. Don't want to. Not even if I want to. Die without her. Feel her when she's near me, in my head, in my heart._

"My sundae suddenly seems less yummy now."

"Sorry to spoil things, Pet."

"No, I mean it pales in comparison. I want my other dessert. Also pale. Potentially covered in whipped cream."

Spike's eyes lit up suddenly. "Meet me back at the car. Gonna swing through the kitchen."

"Spike! You can't!" Buffy admonished, eyes wide, but laughing slightly.

"Don't worry, Slayer, I'll leave enough in the tip to cover a can of whipped cream. I have to do somethin' a _little_ naughty to keep my reputation up." He winked.

* * *

"I can never eat ice cream the same way again." Buffy playfully squirted rosettes of white onto him, down the ridges of muscle. Avoiding sparse hairs. Up the proud standing member and leaving a large whorl on his tip.

He groaned as her tongue and lips went happily across the trails she'd left. "I'll be keepin' cans of whipped cream in the minifridge. Does your dorm have one of those?"

"It will now. Blood bags. Whipped cream. Sodas."

"No stove?"

"No, but there's the cafeteria. I'll bring stuff home to eat." Her tongue darted over him as her eyes met his.

"No. I'll meet you there for dinner sometimes. Sometimes you'll wanna just be with your pals, I get that."

Her eyes scorched him. Angel barely wanted to be around any of her friends, could barely spend time with her, seeming to find it tortuous or tempting by turns. Riley couldn't bear to be apart. Lonely and questioning, or smothered and struggling. She completely ignored the idiocy of Parker. "Why are you so good at this?"

He knew what she meant. "Luv, Dru left me. Shagged people right in front of me. Tore my heart out. I can deal with a few hours apart. 'Specially when you're never really away from me." He pressed his hand over his heart, and she suddenly ignored the whipped cream in favor of diving up him.

"You remember what I told you the first night we tried to break this thing?"

"'Ow, you idiot'?" he hazarded.

"I like you." She smiled, pressing her lips to his.

"I like you, too, Luv."

"You're kinda weirdly perfect."

"Hark who's talking."

There was a giggle and slick slipping of bodies, little traces and splatters of whipped cream across bodies. He dove to lick her breast, she pushed his shoulders back and slipped her mouth over his torso, lapping her way down before engulfing him.

Spike sighed. "Just perfect…"

* * *

They left before dawn. "I'm sorry it was short, Slayer. One day, I can take us somewhere nicer. For longer."

"Spike, the last time I had a vacation, I got sucked into a portal and stuck in a demon sweatshop. No- wait, I got a couple weeks off to see my dad last summer. I got to see him for like 45 minutes before he remembered he had a conference in Seattle. I - never mind. The point is, I loved tonight. A little time with you goes a long way. That used to be something bad, like, uber annoyance,"she chuckled in a strained voice. "It's like us, Spike. Maybe we won't have a lot of time together, but what we do have is-"

"Shhh. I'm not goin' anywhere. An' you aren't, either. No one's gonna be able to touch you. You won't let 'em. I won't let 'em. Every Slayer has a death wish- but you're not like any other Slayer." Spike raised an eyebrow.

She felt his thoughts, not heard them. It was like understanding, knowing, instincts, like breathing and blinking.

_Not like any other Slayer. Not like any other wish. Death wish. Not _my_ death. _"We kill Dracula."

"Give you that look of peace." At least for a while. '_Til the next big villain with an apocalypse in mind pops up- and then we'll kill that one, too._

"And I can make it happen." From the sudden brightening in his eyes, she knew she'd said the right thing- not only replied to his words, but replied to something else, something unspoken.

"Slayers always find it in the end- that wish."

"Yeah, well, I'll just find Dracula first. I'm gonna make our wishes come true, Spike."

"You already do. I'll help you, Baby."

"You already do," she echoed and grinned as they finally slid into the car. He started it, one hand on hers. The urge to ignore the soon-rising sun was swirling around them. One more time on this wedding night, wedding day.

_I could make love with him over and over- I never felt that way with Riley. Once. Under a spell. Is this just a spell, magic, the old magic in bloods and bites?_ The sudden worry wended through her mind, and he blotted it out almost as soon as it peeked out. He didn't have to say anything, just squeezed his arm around her back.

_Not just sex. Support. _"Love you."

"Love you."

She sighed, all the good things don't have to end, but they might have to go on hiatus. "Would it be terribly unsexy to help me pack to move into the dorms and check in with Giles about that Countess ex-wife who might have some information?"

Spike pretended to consider. "Can there be _nude _packing?" Buffy bending. Preferably bending over, twisting and reaching and-

"You have a filthy mind."

"You share it now."

Spike. Lifting boxes. Shirtless. Bending. Stretching. Hefting. Minus clothing. The air was suddenly way too warm and her clothes were way too hot. "Sure. Until Mom gets home anyway. And um- y'know since we'll be in my room 'cause that's where my stuff is…"

"Such as a bed?"

"That we didn't break- or break in?"

"I love the way your mind works, Slayer."

"That's new."

"There's a lot that's new between us," he admitted. "But it'll last, Luv."

She agreed. She vowed. "It'll last."

* * *

At last! Riley coughed and wheezed as the tube came out, followed by fluids that nurses immediately suctioned and wiped away. "I need a phone." The pad and pen had been fine for short-term needs. "Has anyone called?"

"Uh- yes, your parents and one of your brothers called Ellis, your military point of contact. There's an Agent Brown-"

"Brown?" Riley asked hoarsely, throat sore and raw by default.

"He's actually waiting to see you. He's visiting your new roommate."

Riley managed a smile. Graham was in a regular room, a big step down post-heart surgery. That's where he was heading now. "My girlfriend?"

"She didn't have clearance. You didn't disclose your location-" the tone turned accusatory and Riley was quick to deny the nurse's suspicions.

"No. No, I didn't- it's just- you don't know my girlfriend. She can … do impossible things." Not your girlfriend, a nagging voice reminded. _Not anymore. Not sure, are you? Don't want to believe. As for doing the impossible- then why does she need you? _

"Heart rate is spiking again. Sir, you need to calm down. Here, we're going to get the phone and you can call your folks and anyone else you need to. Let's get you moved to your other room. You'll be more comfortable, less wires and tubes, right?"

* * *

"How was she?" Riley demanded after a perfunctory greeting.

"She was fine, how the hell are _you_?" Brown lightly pumped his friend's hand, afraid to dislocate IVs or anything else.

"I'm- sore. Pain meds are a beautiful thing." Riley had to laugh.

"Amen!" Graham, usually very serious, looked giggly and sipped on a smoothie as he clicked through sports channels.

"You'll be up in no time. Recuping in a cornfield, right?"

Home would be nice. "I called my parents. They'll have my room ready if I want it. I think I need to see what Buffy needs before I can ditch up there."

"Trust me, girl doesn't need any help. She'll be happy to have her man in one piece, heart pumping at the right speed!" Brown encouraged.

Every reassuring word somehow went wrong in his head. Hearts at her preferred speed don't effing beat, he smothered a rancorous snarl. "Was she patrolling?"

"Yep."

"She shouldn't be patrolling. She's - under his influence." _If she's under his influence to the point I worry about her, she should be getting help. From someone._ He blinked rapidly, pushing the fleeting thought away.

"She didn't seem influenced much. I talked to her."

"You were supposed to-"

"I know, I know, but she's the _Slayer_, Ry. You think she couldn't tell when one human dude was tailing her? She told me she was fine and she couldn't wait to talk to you. She also made it clear that she can't skip patrol too often. If she hadn't been on the streets, some guy with a brand new baby would be dead and that baby would have no daddy. I saw the whole thing. Touching. Slaying must be kind of nice. Hands on rescuing for the greater good, not just a broad knowledge of saving or serving a country…" Brown said thoughtfully.

Riley was not in the mood for introspection. "Was her Watcher with her?"

"What's a Watcher?" For all Brown's knowledge of the supernatural, it was still rather rudimentary.

"It's like a Slayer's guide. Although in Buffy's case, it turned out to be an older British guy, kind of hot in a creepy, cradle-robbing way, actually able to hold his own against the local demons, too."

Brown blinked. Wait, the HST was a Watcher? Well, the vampire he had heard and seen definitely was British, and older than the fresh-faced sophomore though he didn't think the age gap was too physically obvious. It would be the dead demon with a human thing that would turn heads- and stomachs. But it wasn't like a dating relationship if he was some kind of guide. Maybe that made sense. Who better to guide a vampire slayer than a vampire? The prey teaches the hunter exactly what works. Wow, the girl hadn't been kidding when she said he was saving lives. Brown felt guilt tingling at the base of his neck. He had been complicit in handicapping the Slayer, the "Chosen One."

"Riley's jealous," Graham giggled and slurped loudly before weakly putting his drink down. "The room is spinny. I'm gonna sleep now."

Brown was glad for the distraction from his discomfiture. "Graham's out. I'll have what he's having," he chuckled as the patient started to snore. "He must have just gotten his dose. I wonder what the great Agent Finn is like when he's drugged up on feel-good juice?" Brown teased.

Riley didn't laugh, nor would he be swayed. "I'm not jealous of him! Their relationship is just a bit… off-putting. He hangs around her a lot, patrolling or otherwise. Was he with her?"

"Well… I saw her with someone. He sounded British. They looked comfortable together and everything, but I'm not really - Riley! Finn, sit down!" Brown's quick thinking from years of battle were put to good use. He hit the call button instantly and held restraining hands on Riley's untethered arms. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"If she- can- rely- on that old man more than me-" he grunted, chest suddenly spasming in pain as he collapsed.

"Old man? Riley, the guy's a vampire! You know vamps are strong enough to-"

"What?" Riley gasped. "What did you say?"

"Her Watcher. He's a vampire."

His eyes narrowed. "What?"

"What, what?"

"What do you mean, her Watcher is a vampire"?

"I mean- he's a vampire. Pale. Pasty. Drinks blood- not that I_ saw_ him drinking blood, but-" At Riley's absolutely confused look, Brown became worried. "You do remember they're real, right?"

"Giles isn't a vampire! I've seen him in the daylight a hundred times!"_ Well, a dozen, anyway. _"He's British! They're_ all _pale and pasty!"

"Giles? Is that his name?"

"His last name."

"Oh. Right. William."

"William?"

"What's going on here?" A nurse raced in, white sneakers skidding, breathless and panicked.

"A little misunderstanding!" Brown placated. "I- uh- I bumped the button."

"I see. Nonetheless, I would have come in here. Agent Finn, your heart just went through a lot. Let's take it easy?"

You have no idea what my heart is going through, Riley wanted to shout, but he refrained.

The nurse continued, "I think visiting hours need to be cut short. One of the occupants of this room is asleep and resting and the other one should be." She gave Riley a pointed glare before her face softened into something maternal and gently scolding. "It's hard for you, you men of action, boys on the frontlines, but you _need_ to rest if you want to go back to that life. I'm going to see your visitor out for now."

"Okay, okay," Riley refused to be beaten- but he knew when to call a tactical halt. "Thanks, Brown. I appreciate you keeping an eye on her while I was in surgery. I'll give her a call in a little bit, now that my voice is actually working."

"Any time. Finn, I know you're worried, not jealous, right? You don't have to be. It won't do your heart any good, man. Relax. She's got friends to help her, like you said. Even if they seem too close or something. She has a unit. You'll be back in it in no time." With a hearty handshake, Brown prepared to depart, almost eager, unsettled by something he could sense in Finn, sense but not define. _Just the post-op. Just the months of adrenaline-hyping meds, that's all._ "Get better, buddy."

Something Brown had said hadn't made sense, not by a long shot. Riley had a sudden wild thought. But was it so wild?

_Josh said her Watcher was a vampire. _

_Buffy needs a vampire. _

_Giles will do whatever she needs. _

_Oh God. He couldn't have. What if he did?_

"Are you sure the older British guy she was with was a vampire?" Riley whispered, retaining his grip on Brown's hand.

"I'm positive, Finn. But- but listen, he was a good guy. He was helping her. Saving people. I know for a fact he wouldn't hurt anyone." _Because we chipped him. He's an HST. _

_How does Brown know that? _Riley stared at Brown in consternation.

Brown returned the look. _Something isn't right. Well, none of it is right, really. Riley isn't telling me something, or he didn't understand something, or I didn't understand something- God, I need a nap, too_. "It's okay. You'll call her and get it straightened out."

Riley nodded, eyes closing against his will, feeling dizzy. _He was too close to her. She went to him first. I wouldn't let her go see Angel, so he- That's sick. _

_That's extreme._

_Live or die for her._

Riley watched Brown leave and even pretended to settle down so the nurse would stop hovering. As he fell asleep, Riley's hazy mind kept repeating one phrase, over and over.

_He'd die for her._

_He'd die for her._

_Die for her._

_Hm. I'm okay with that. _

To be continued…

_Author's End Note: Thank you so much for supporting my pieces, friends and readers. I have two new ones out which are free or 99 cents(Kindle Unlimited/Kindle). I hope you'll check out CrossRealms Encounters: A Helpful Gentleman and Vampire in Vegas: Quartet, both by S.C. Principale if you need something to read while you're cooped up at home. Stay well!_


	20. Part XX

**Kindred**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'' he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

**Part XX**

Joyce arrived home, looking exhausted. "I'm home, honey!" she kicked her taupe traveling pumps off and let her rolling luggage fall with a thud. "How do you feel about Chinese for dinner? I'm in no mood to cook!"

"Be right there!" Buffy's voice was muffled.

Joyce took off her earrings and shook out her hair. "I'm going to have a shower first. I always feel so dirty after airplanes. How often do you think they really vacuum those seats?" She mounted the stairs -and screeched.

"Joyce! Easy, Luv!" Spike dropped the cardboard boxes he was carrying and grabbed her wrist as she toppled backward.

"Spike! What are you-"

"Mom! Mom, are you okay?" Buffy zoomed around Spike and they all met at the bottom of the steps, standing amid toppled boxes and spilling clothes.

"What's going on? Why is he in the house?" Joyce was breathing hard, eyes wide. Even after her phone call with Buffy, she instinctively felt uneasy when confronted by Spike.

"He's helping me pack. Moving to the dorm in a few days, remember?"

Joyce blinked. "Spike? Is helping you pack for college?"

"Well, I like to help the Slayer when I can," Spike said with a small grin, voice easy and nonchalant, shrugging shoulders in a tight-black tee. His grin vanished abruptly as Buffy pulled back from hugging Joyce. They'd been alone in the house together. Alone, in her bedroom together, as newlyweds.

* * *

_Several hours ago…_

"Is it too bright in here?" Buffy worriedly looked at the blinds.

"No," Spike breathed out, watching her turn from the windows. Her nipples stood out from her breasts, all of her was backlit and glowing, gold tinges around shadowy body. Her sweet mound was swollen and slightly distended. Her neck was healing, but his mark of "ownership" was still extremely visible. "My wife looks well-loved. Well-seen-to."

"You look pretty taken care of, too," Buffy replied, blushing slightly. "Actually… you look kind of pink."

"The lighting."

"No. Like- there." She pointed.

"You can say cock."

"I can, but I get all giggly. Your cock was this pretty whitish-pink. Now, it's turning Barbie pink."

"Slayer, stop. I draw the line at -"

"Is that from all the little sips you've been having? Or are you sore? Can men get sore?" She'd never had sex-a-thons like this before. She glowed. _Spike can't get enough of me. My husband thinks I'm a sex goddess._

_Holy shit. I'm married. I have a_ husband.

_That's actually pretty good for Ms. I'm-Cursed-To-Die-Alone-Before-Graduation._

"I'm fine. Just got a workout. An' I'm still ready to go. We'd better be quick. Your mum is going to be home soon."

"A few hours."

"That's soon for newlyweds. Also, aren't you s'posed to check in with -"

"Shhh. Outsiders aren't invited to the world's shortest honeymoon." Buffy straddled the bed, followed by his hips. "You look bigger."

"You feel tighter. Ohhhh, sweet fuck…" Spike groaned as she shifted and took him in, inch by inch. Even though she was wet, it was a bit laborious this time. He bit down a laugh as she grunted and huffed in annoyance as her walls seemed to stick, then sank home, leaning back as he bottomed out in her. "Sweet Jesus."

"I thought I was the sweet one?" she panted, adjusting. "Don't break my bed."

"I make no promises. You're the one riding, I'm just enjoying the show."

"Making your wife do all the work," she purred in a teasing voice, raking her nails over his nipples, up to the bite she'd left on his neck- which was still there. "Spike?"

"Mmm?" He had his eyes closed, teeth starting to grit. At least one thing was good about his repeated calls to husbandly duty- he was building up even more than his considerable stamina. Buffy could have him for an hour on the first round at this rate.

"Look at your neck."

His eyes popped open, amused annoyance in them. "How'm I gonna do that?"

"Look in the- oh. Never mind."

"You'll have to describe what you see," he invited, flexing a bit, watching her practically salivate. Oh, well. The drooling would be mutual.

"Vampires heal fast."

"B'lieve we already knew that."

"Where I bit you- it left a mark. It's um- it's scarred over. Already. So it healed, but it made a scar. I don't think that's-"

"-normal? No. It isn't." He looked worried for a split second, then joy filled his eyes. "It's not normal. It _worked._"

"What?"

"I belong to you. I have a sire's mark and a- wedding mark. Let's call it that. I belong to Buffy Summers."

"Yes, you do," she traced her hand wonderingly over his neck. "I'm not a vampire. I thought I couldn't-"

Yes, that's what they'd both thought. He was never so delighted in all of his unlife to be wrong. "Miracles happen every day. Like you lovin' me."

She traced the spot high on her breast, the place he'd bit her as she sank her teeth into his skin. It hadn't healed yet and that was unusual for a Slayer. It was going to scar. "It really worked." The joy in his eyes matched hers.

"It really worked." He stroked her breast, her face, her shining single tear that overflowed and landed on his fingertip. Couldn't have that. _No bride of mine will cry for long, even if it's happy tears._ He tugged her to him and they rolled to face each other on their sides, nuzzling in deeper, making a pleasurable cocoon. He gave her a sudden devious smile as he hitched her bottom leg up on his side, settling her cheeks hard against her waist, starting to pound into her steadily, slowly. "Belong to you."

"Yeah, Baby…"

"Wanna take your new toy for a spin?"

"Not a toy. But I'll take you." She grappled with him gently, a playful battle of strength until he relented and let her get back on top of him, moaning in delight as her tongue danced over the marks she'd left.

* * *

Marks he'd left were completely obvious on her throat. He suddenly sprung between her and Joyce, hugging the startled woman as well. "So glad you're home safe! Planes- uh- nasty, noisy, dangerous things, if you ask me. Don't trust 'em. If God had meant man to fly, he'd have given us fins. Er, wings! Let me help you with your luggage, Joyce. Did you bring back anything for the gallery? I s'pose you'd have shipped that -"

Buffy stared after her lover as he hustled a bewildered looking Joyce ahead of him, stepping over boxes. He turned and mouthed, "Neck!"

Buffy's hair was damp and tangled from sweat, sex, and showers. She hastily yanked it to one side of her neck, and then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored-section of her mother's china cabinet in the dining room. With the slightest shift, her bite would be on display and Joyce would be on the warpath. She bit her lip and used Slayer speed and stealth to nip into her room.

_Oh, shit. _

The bed was unmade- not that unusual for a lazy, summer Buffy. The bed being out several feet from the wall and diagonal- that might raise some questions. She slid into a turtleneck sweater and hefted the bed back into place.

* * *

Joyce regarded Spike nervously as he rambled. He asked questions but didn't leave room for her answers. "Why are you really here?" she finally demanded, eyes narrowed.

It pained him at once. To see his mother-in-law- _Bloody hell, I have one of those-_ suspicious of him- no, specifically to see her suspect him of harming Buffy. _That must be it_. "I wouldn't hurt her!" Spike suddenly burst out.

Joyce blinked at the desperation in his voice.

"Sorry." Spike coughed, eyes darting away and back. "I did come to help her pack. Honest, you can check the boxes."

"No, I understand that you actually helped her pack, I saw the boxes. _Why_ are you helping her? She said you saved her life. You helped her patrol. Protected her from another vampire?" Joyce's forehead furrowed more deeply with each sentence. "Buffy doesn't usually need your help."

"That's true."

"Riley and Angel are gone, so-"

"I'm not a stand in. She wouldn't need anyone. She's a world-beater. Does the impossible on her own, I've seen it."

Joyce smiled, relaxing slightly. "World-beater. I like that." _Spike is proud of her. As proud of her as I am. Again, unusual. _Her tongue tripped over the next words. "Would you- like tea? Cocoa?"

"I'd love some, but I'll let you sort your shower first." He turned away, and then turned back, soft smile on hard features. "You always treated me like a person, Joyce. Must be where she gets it. Your daughter. Treats me like a man. You know what that does to a bloke?"

_First, packing, now philosophy._ Joyce arched one quizzical eyebrow. "What?"

"Makes him want to be a better one." He shut the door after himself.

Joyce sat down hard on the bed, narrowly missing her luggage. _Oh no. Not another one._

* * *

"I need to shop. Seriously. In the winter, this'll be easy to hide, but- hey. I had that thought earlier. I thought, 'By winter this will be over.'" Buffy hissed to Spike as she joined him in the living room, turtleneck on and hair purposefully done in a low twist that went over one shoulder as a safety net.

"See? You're wrong sometimes," Spike winked.

"Not too often, so don't get used to it," she teased.

"Would I ever think such a thing? Happy wife, happy life, I heard that on a carpet-cleanin' commerical. Good advice."

"We're basing our marriage on ads for rug cleaner?"

"Bloody hell. Marriage."

"Dracula is going to flip his shiny black wig."

"So's your mum. Although, she invited me for cocoa. That's a good sign."

"That's awesome." She wound her arms over his neck, smiling up at him, probably besotted looking and not minding. "She liked you- sometimes. My mother has zero sense when it comes to vampires."

"Oi!"

"Not you! Dracula. She let him in the house."

"She did what now?"

"She feels bad already, don't bring it up. She doesn't know about the bite, the whole enforced bridal thing." Buffy bit her lip.

"You gonna tell her?"

"Yes. But not right now. I want to hear what the Council says. I have to call Giles. And I guess we should load these boxes."

"Want me to carry things to the porch and you slip 'em into the trunk?"

"You're going to drive me to the campus, to the dorm, and shlep boxes into my room?"

"Thought it was _our_ room?" Spike's voice was dipping darker, stroking places that were hardwired to her pulse, pounding harder, pumping blood in the arteries high up in her thighs.

"It is. It _is_," Buffy's voice reached lower, a whisper, pushing his own sensory buttons, making lids flicker as lips met around her whisper. _I have the darkness, he holds it for me, keeps my secrets- and some of them are beautiful._ "How about we stop by your place and get what you want to put in the dorm? Make it ours?"

He ran his hands along her waist, watching her swallow hard. "I have it already, right here."

She would drag him upstairs or into his car, have him again. "Being married makes me horny," she suddenly confessed, not bothering to blush.

"It's mutual. An' it's not the weddin', Kitten, it's the couple. Perfect match for me. Burn me…" he flipped the words off of his tongue and she caught them on her skin. "My sunlight. Lights me up, my girl does. Shines for me…"

Buffy reached for his belt loops- and stopped, fingers tightening on them and pausing. "I need to stop this. Mom invited you for cocoa. We can't ditch her."

"Right. Right. Distraction. What can we do?"

"Uh… oh, we could fold laundry in the basement? It's boring, but I have stuff down there I want to pack."

"Being alone with you in the basement sounds anything but boring."

She giggled and slipped into the basement stairwell ahead of him.

* * *

"Buffy? Buffy!" Joyce groaned as the phone rang insistently and no one answered it. Fear of what happened to her child left alone with a vampire was dulled by the besotted look in Spike's eyes that he had tried to hide. She decided to let the machine get it when the annoying jangle resumed. With a curse, she stepped into a towel and marched into the master bedroom, leaving wet footprints behind her.

"Hello?" she demanded sharply.

"Ah, Joyce! Home from St. Petersburg!"

"Oh, hello, Rupert. Did you want Buffy?"

"If possible, yes, please."

"Well, she's here somewhere, but she didn't answer the phone. Spike was over here, helping her pack to move back into the dorms."

"Was he?"

"Still is, as far as I know. Rupert, does that sound-"

"Strange?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, indeed. However, I- uh- I don't think he means any harm. He's trying to prove useful to her in a - difficult time."

"Difficult time, how? Buffy told me he saved her life, protected from another vampire." She bit her lip. "Was it Angel?"

Giles hesitated. "She told you about the other vampire?"

"Yes, simply that, which is not enough detail. She's got this mistaken idea that keeping me in the dark is helpful. I suppose I deserve that, seeing as how I reacted in the past, but…"

"Dracula. Dracula faced her to a draw. He wants to win the battle he started." Giles hoped Buffy would forgive him for imparting this information and for wording it just so. It was truthful, without being specific. "Spike isn't as old as Dracula or as powerful, but he's incredibly persistent and a ruthless fighter. He outmaneuvered the Anointed One and Angelus and various other renowned vampires. Once he's loyal to someone-"

"He's loyal to Buffy?"

"Very much so."

"Why?"

"It's mutually beneficial. They can help each other."

The answer was weak and Joyce knew it. However, water was getting in her ears and shampoo was working its way into her eyes. "What should I tell Buffy?"

"That - the thing I told her our contacts in LA were working on has been delivered."

"You have contacts? Deliveries? Rupert, it sounds like Buffy is involved in something illegal when you put it like that!"

"Not illegal. Simply- discreet. I'm on my way there with Willow, Tara, and Anya. We have- a reason. Xander will be at my flat. If she could call me soon-"

"Hang on!" Joyce marched to the top of the stairs, clad in a towel and still trailing water and bellowed in her best "irate mother" voice, "BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS! Answer the phone!"

"Coming, Mom!"

Was it her imagination, or was there a guilty giggle and squeal in her daughter's voice as she answered?

* * *

"He got the Countess lady? How?"

"The conversation was brief. I didn't ask and he didn't volunteer." Giles didn't press Angel for details. If his research was correct, at some point Angelus and Darla had moved in the same circles as the Parisian vampires. They'd also moved through Europe when Dracula was active. Perhaps he'd claim to be an old acquaintance. The long-lived vampires knew how to manipulate, how to blend in. It wouldn't be uncommon, he supposed, for one to call upon another.

"He didn't say? That's probably not somethin' he wants to brag about then." Spike's voice was muffled and snarky.

Giles gave an impatient sigh. His phone call with Angel had been brief and practically one-sided, consisting of, "I have her. Wes says you can do the truth spell from there, but it might weaken over distance and time. Also- I think he'd feel better if you had Willow around. Like I'm going to go evil from this. Ha. This doesn't make me happy."

"We'll be there."

"I'll have her softened up for you."

"If there's a truth spell in play, surely there's no softening required?"

"I like to be sure." Then Angel had hung up.

"Xander will be at my flat. If we were… delayed-"

"We'll ride in." Buffy's face was grave. "That's not likely, is it?"

He wasn't sure. "Not likely at all."

* * *

Buffy put the phone down. She knew when Giles was holding something back. He'd been sort of twitchy lately, but so had she. "I want to go over there and wait with Xander."

To his credit, the suggestion didn't faze him, but he still had an objection. "I can't stand your Mum up. She'll think I'm unreliable. Not a suitable husband."

"We'll come back. We'll have cups of cocoa, pots of cocoa, vats of it. Okay?' Buffy pulled Spike firmly behind her.

"Are you at least gonna leave a note?" He balked.

"You must've been a way better son than I am a daughter," Buffy sighed and scribbled a note to her mother.

His spine stiffened. "Wish I'd been better. I didn't- I never hurt my mother." _Killed the thing I let get inside of her, but that wasn't her. _"I would love to show you off to her. I wish she could see how well I did for myself after all."

Buffy put her arm through his, eyes full of concern. Something he hadn't shared was hurting him, and it hurt her, too, she could feel it without knowing it. "I love you. My mom is gonna love you, too. Eventually."

* * *

Joyce debated slipping into jeans and a shirt or leaving her robe on. Spike was around. Spike was company- odd company, but still. She reached for her softest pair of faded jeans and flinched when the phone rang again. "Buffy! Buffy, did you- Buffy, are you even here?" Joyce poked her head around her bedroom door.

Nothing.

_So much for cocoa and jeans._ She cinched up her robe and took the portable phone with her as she went down the stairs. "Hello, Summers' residence."

"Joyce?"

"Oh, Riley! Riley, how good to hear your voice. Buffy told me you had surgery and she was waiting for your call once you were - safe."

"I'm safe enough. It went well. No active duty for a while, but I'll be out of this hospital in a few days. Look, I need to talk to Buffy. I need to warn her."

Red flags went off. "Warn her? About what?"

"She needs to watch out. You all need to watch out for Mr. Giles."

* * *

_Two hours ago…_

He hung up the phone. No one had answered. He would keep calling back. Unless it was too late.

_Giles let himself get turned. Why in the world would he do that? _The question circled in his brain all night, a vulture circling the dying creature that had been his sanity.

His drugs had been tapered down. He was sure he was thinking clearly and had no idea why the nurses and Graham kept giving him sidelong glances and asking if he was feeling okay.

_Watchers control Slayers. Buffy is uncontrollable. Except by a vampire who bites her. Like Dracula. Like she wants Angel to do. Oh yes, he'd love to control her, already did, his presence in her life, his absence in her life colored everything she did and the girl was too stupid to realize it._

Riley let out a spasming breath._ Buffy needs help. Everyone dances around her and does whatever Buffy says, little Scooby yes-men. _He conveniently forgot all of the discussions he'd witnessed, relationships fragmented and rebuilt, all of the information exchanged and debated. _If Buffy said "I need a vampire", Giles would get one. Become one. _

_ To control her. _

Images flashed through his mind, slanted and skewed, Giles in her bedroom, hands lingering on her. Fatherly hugs became salacious, his meetings with her in the dark turning into lovers' rendezvous, late night phone calls become heated plans.

None of that ever happened, a feeble voice of reason protested.

Anger shut it down.

He'd bite her and bind her to him. Decrying Dracula, claiming he was one of the "good vampires" luring Buffy deeper into his web until…

Well, everyone knows what spiders do once the fly is wrapped up tight, helpless, strangling in silk.

They suck the life out of them.

* * *

_Now…_

"Giles? What in the world-" Joyce couldn't fathom what danger he could present. Not unless he was under the influence of band candy, at least.

"He's a vampire."

Joyce blinked at the phone. The anesthesia must not have worn off. "No."

"Yes!" He almost snapped right then. If one more person dismissed him out of hand, he'd tear out his tubes and go flatten them.

"_Rupert Giles_? Buffy's Watcher?

"Yes, him. He's been turned, Joyce."

_I just spoke to Giles on the phone. _"And when did this supposedly happen?"

"A couple days ago!"

_Buffy's seen him since then, talked to me since then. _"Hm. Most vampires don't call and say they're headed to LA to pick up something. Not in the middle of a beautiful summer day, anyway," Joyce said drily. "Not only that, but Buffy's seen him and-"

"She's under his control! His puppet." _Or hers. Give up his life for her, whatever she says because she's the "Chosen One." _"Her puppet!"

"Riley, I think you need to rest, let your meds wear off and-."

"Los Angeles? Angel! Angel's always in this. Bet you he's the one that did the turning."

"Angel doesn't hurt humans anymore."

"Ha! I've met him. He hurts plenty."

Joyce was privately inclined to agree about that. "Riley, Buffy is headed over to see Giles right now. It's broad daylight and Buffy has backup. I'm sure that if there is a situation with Giles, she'll let you know."

"You think she'll let me know? No. I'm the boyfriend, second string. Last to know."

"I know how that feels, but-"

"Joyce, listen, I have intel. An agent buddy of mine tailed her, saw her patrolling with an older man, a British vampire. William."

Wait. Cogs in the dysfunctional machines juddered to a halt and started grinding in reverse.

Joyce drew herself up to her full height. "You were spying on my baby? No wonder she wants to end things with you! What sort of a man -"

Riley's voice was a harsh snap against her ear. "End things?"

Silence. "I'm sorry, I meant…"

"What did you say his name was?"

"Who?"

"Giles."

"Rupert."

Rupert. Not William. "Is it a nickname?"

"No. Giles is sort of a nickname, everyone calls him by his last name. Or Ripper." Joyce felt herself blushing. "Riley, I think this is all a misunderstanding."

Riley wasn't listening, he was muttering under her placating tones."British vampire. Older. Helping her the other night."

"Oh, Spike. He's older. I don't know just how much older, but I know he's been very helpful lately."

"_What?!_ Who?"

Joyce held the phone away from her ear. The tone of voice was thundering, scorching with a sudden rage. "Riley, your heart!"

"Spike! Spike can't help her, he can't bite!"

"That's good, isn't it? He's harmless? Spike can't hurt people, only demons. He certainly wouldn't be a help if he bit her."

"That's just what they want you to think."

"You're not making any sense and I'm hanging up. Does Buffy have the number to call you?"

"Left a message earlier," Riley gave a reflexive reply, editing out bits he didn't want to hear.

_Only people. _

_What if it doesn't hurt?_

_What if she likes it now? Vampires like to bite. Their whores like to get bitten. _

_What if she's not fully human? Infected? Dracula was controlling her. How? Controlling part of himself he put inside, that she drank from him? _Lips curled in disgust and he suddenly retched, dropping the phone, disconnecting a monitor, earning a hyper-attentive flurry of nurses who'd been suspiciously close lately.

* * *

Joyce hung up the phone, biting her lip. Riley was clearly suffering from some delusions, probably related to post-operative painkillers.

It couldn't be anything else, could it?

She looked at the answering machine. Ten messages! Where had Buffy been? Probably with her friends, or patrolling last night. _This morning- wasn't she home packing? Maybe she didn't check the machine. _ She pushed the button and listened to Riley's voice.

"Hi, Buffy. Surgery went fine. I'm doing okay. I hope you weren't too worried. I had a breathing tube for a while and couldn't talk. Let me give you the number you can call and they'll patch you through. Call me back. Love you."

"Hi, Buffy. Riley, again. I hope you're okay. Where are you? Call me back. Love you."

"Buffy, it's me again. Look, I don't know whether to be more upset that I can't get ahold of you and God knows what's happening with the- situations you've got going on right now, or more upset that you don't care if I even made it through surgery! Call me back."

The messages got worse. So did Joyce's frown.

"Something isn't right with that boy."

* * *

"I knew something was not right when the servants told me Angelus had arrived on my doorstep. Why, I wondered, would he call himself that name? He hides his true nature under a pair of wings."

"You can stop talking until they get here. Unless you have anything useful to say."

"You can always learn from your elders, Angel."

Angel was unsettled by the Countess, now that she was awake. Upon meeting her, he'd bowed, charmed, waiting until her servant left, and then "poof", a smashing blow to the back of her head and into the rather dicey portal Wesley had cast with the help of some very rare books that probably were supposed to be in the Council's Library.

"You don't look at me."

"Not really into brunettes." Angel shrugged.

"Don't feel bad. It's always the blondes. Blood? Tea?"

"Cordelia! Get out of here, now!"

"No! You bring someone into our agency to help us on a case and I treat them like a potential profitable asset. Wait, Buffy is paying us, right?"

Angel growled and flashed his fangs.

"Sheesh! Fine, a freebie, this time. Only because she saved my life a bunch in high school."

"Human or animal?" The Countess had deep brown eyes and long, thick hair that was the blue-black of midnight. The eyes and hair highlighted the lily-white of her skin and the scarlet lipstick she was wearing.

"Animal."

"Hm." The Countess looked at Angel curiously. "You do not avail yourself the pleasure of drinking with your lovers?"

"He has pleasure issues," Cordelia stage whispered, earning another snarl. "Also, lover issues."

"Well, I don't typically delight myself with the fairer sex, but you_ are_ lucious. I could teach her for you, Angel, show her there is nothing to fear. Although…" her eyes turned slowly to Wesley, who stood silently in the doorway, hoping to remain unnoticed. "I would prefer your sorcerer. I can smell power in him. Both of them." Her eyes narrowed again, accompanied by a brief shake of her head. "You truly are what they say, a murderer, a killer, unable to make it a gift-"

Angel backhanded her savagely, making a trickle of blood spurt from her nose and upper lip.

"Angel!" Cordelia gasped and ran forward, then stopped. _What's going on? Why is the lady calmly sitting here discussing lovers and Angel is suddenly punching her in the face? She's tied up! What kind of threat can she be?_

"There's no need for that, surely!" Wesley approached and shook his head.

"Don't listen to her. Both of you, leave." Angel yanked the slumping woman back upright.

"Your way is not the only way!" Brown eyes were now fearful, pleading. "I live peacefully! I do no harm. Never have I turned, never have I pained. Why kill me?"

"Kill you?" Wesley and Cordelia exclaimed as one.

"You _did _mention you needed information, didn't you?" Wesley asked, eyes glinting with sudden accusation.

"Did you just show up and bash her on the head? Did you even_ ask _if she'd help us?"

His silence was broken only by the Countess' wheezing laugh and his shuffling feet.

Cordelia marched over to the taciturn vampire and slugged him in the arm, glaring at him. "Ugh! Oh my God! Angel! Of all the times not to talk! Look, Lady-"

"Countess Ana-Maria Elena Daniela. Call me Daniela, it's shorter."

"I'll say. Look, Daniela, how do you feel about your ex?"

"Which one? I have many. All living or passed naturally." She glared pointedly over Cordelia's shoulder and met Angel's gaze.

"Dracula," Wesley spoke softly and dabbed the woman's nose and lip with a folded handkerchief.

"Such a gentleman. They are hard to find now."

Wesley flushed and coughed at the sultriness of her voice. "I was saying, Dracula has harmed a friend of ours. He intends to turn her into one of his wives. She doesn't want to be turned, nor be his bride."

Daniela cocked her head. "Well, if he has claimed her as his, her wishes do not really matter. I'm afraid Dracula is like that. Very generous with his wealth and his praise, even lavish in his physical affections- but he doesn't give heed to anyone. She can beg all she wants, if he's determined to wed her, she'll be his."

"This one isn't really the begging type. She's more like the slaying and staking his undead ass type. Oh, sorry, are you two still friends?"

The proud figure drew herself up, wrists popping in their bonds as her shoulders squared. "He is no longer my lord and master. I was all a wife could be to him and more. He cast me aside for someone… exotic. New. No. He is not my friend."

"Then, might you perhaps share a few tidbits of information with us?" Wesley asked hopefully.

"Friend, I am not. Loyal, I am still. You may ask. What I will answer depends on if it will betray my allegiance. He is no longer my husband, but he is still my sire."

Cordelia winced. "Ewww. That's very messed up. Wouldn't that be like sleeping with your father?"

"No. A sire turns you into a vampire, sharing his blood. Dracula chooses to share for a specific purpose. He chooses for another type of love. As do I." Her eyes raked over Cordelia's curves and Wesley's handsome face. "I like sharing mortal beauty. Have you been with an immortal? The endurance alone would make it worth your while…"

"Your lovers like the toothless look, Dani? That's where you're heading if you keep playing the temptress with my people. Call it what it is- fucking your dinner."

"Language!" Wesley paled.

"Yes, they share blood with me. I feed. They don't miss a pint here or there. Mind you, it helps if you pick the young and virile. They grow to love it, the pleasure, the rush, the intensity… When I stop, they beg for more." Her voice had crept lower, stroking past ears and into erogenous zones, but it abruptly returned to factual. "I console them in other ways. I remind them that we can play again tomorrow. You'd be surprised at how many come back."

"You thrall them into-"

"No! Not for that. I know what it is like to submit unwillingly. I do not ask them to…" This time her eyes flickered with another kind of intensity, hesitating as she looked for a sympathetic face. She settled on Cordelia. "I do not ask them to do anything they do not enjoy. Vampires have different tastes, no? Angelus- he likes the ones that taste of fear and pain. Torture and rape and death. I like the ones who taste of passion, pleasure, abandon, uninhibited, unbridled-" one manacle suddenly snapped and one arm pulled free- "lust."

"Grab her arm!" Angel shouted.

Wesley lunged. She snarled, but didn't seem interested in the Watcher, only the vampire. "Move, human, I've no quarrel with you!"

"God, I see why he stayed married to you for four hundred years!" Cordelia gasped as she joined Wesley in subduing the flailing arm. Angel put a hand on her windpipe and squeezed until she went limp and fell back into the chair he had bound her to.

"Yes, quite a catch. Well-spoken, strong-"

"Insatiable," Angel sniffed disdainfully, all the while struggling not to give into the baser urges she reminded him of. Violence, followed by sex, sometimes the other way around, sometimes together.

"If what you say is true, we have no intention of harming you," Wesley soothed.

"Oh no, Angelus is known the world over for his gentleness and restraint," she laughed bitterly.

"Not Angelus! Angel," he corrected sharply. "I have a soul."

The woman in chains looked at him pityingly as he replaced the irons with something heavier and tighter. "A soul? Oh, dear. You act like you're two different people. A soul stops you from acting on your urges-" her voice dropped to a snake-like whisper, eyes unblinking, tongue flickering across lips, "but the urges are still there."

* * *

Angel didn't need to breathe, but he couldn't stop panting. "Come with me." He herded Wesley and Cordelia in front of him. I don't want you around this filth. Stay comfy."

As soon as the door shut, he grabbed Wesley by the lapel of his jacket. "Steady on!"

"Shh. Give me this." Angel removed the blood-stained handkerchief from startled fingers.

Cordelia stormed off and stormed back, slamming a steaming mug in front of Angel. "You need to drink. You keep flashing your bumpies. And if you're going to lick the blood off of that thing- just- no. Gag. Also, there's a message from Buffy. She was at Giles'. He'd already left. I don't know how long ago, but at bare minimum, she figures he should be an hour into the trip. And… take some time off because I don't know when she called. I was kinda distracted with sleeping beauty in there."

"So around an hour left to wait." Angel paced.

"You suck at waiting."

"I don't. I'm a master at the long game. Master at all kinds of games. Cordy-" he touched her arm and sent her an injured, soulful puppy look as she jumped and recoiled. "Hey."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. You're gonna do me a favor in a little bit."

* * *

"You're creeping me out! Go! Do something. Answer the phone. Return calls." Cordelia placed her hands on her hips and stood between the Countess and Angel as he glowered at their guest-slash-captive.

"I'm not going to leave you alone with her. She has thrall, whatever else she says."

The Countess huffed and met Cordelia's eyes.

"If I can handle you, I can handle her for a minute. You need a break. If you furrow your brow any harder it's going to leave a dent in your skull."

Angel rose reluctantly. "Just to check with Wesley about something. Willow was supposed to give him a list of ingredients for the spell. I'll make sure we have them. Here," he thrust a loaded crossbow into her hand. "Use it if you have to- but aim low."

Cordelia nodded and rolled her eyes once he left the room. She turned to Daniela without putting the weapon down. "Insurance."

"Understood."

"I love your dress. You've really moved with the times. It's totally on trend," Cordelia appraised as she sat across from her.

"You're very kind."

"You think you could do something for Mr. Basic Black in there?"

"He wouldn't listen to me. He's a different sort of person. All or nothing, no happy medium."

"No happy is right. Some days we approach medium." She quickly checked over her shoulder then leaned forward. "I want my boss to stay as far away from the Angelus side of himself as possible, which means no torturing anyone, even demons, no offense." Cordelia hesitated. "You really don't hurt people?"

"Well… It may pinch a little."

"What?"

"Biting."

"They _let_ you bite them?"

"Have you ever been bitten by someone you have a connection with, someone you love, or at least lust after?"

"No on all counts. I avoid being bitten. This is a virgin neck and it stays that way."

"With Angelus about, I'd say you were wise. He could never stop himself."

Cordelia's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "He did, once."

"Good. There's hope for him, I suppose. If a vampire wants to stay alive without detection, he must move often and live in the shadows, stay in a huge city and feed off those who will never be missed, or feed and not kill, not even wound severely."

"Or find the local butcher."

"That would suffice in a pinch, if he can't withstand temptation."

"Or he doesn't want to gamble with his soul. You can mock him about it, but that soul is something that torments him, reminds him of how and who he was. He's doing his best to be a good man."

"Kidnapping a woman from her home and tying her up is not my definition of good."

"You never tie up your dinners?" Cordelia asked skeptically.

"No! Then the bite would hurt. Fear and tension do not relax a lover." Daniela clucked her tongue as if explaining things to a very dense child.

"Good tip," Cordelia muttered. "What about Dracula? How does he live so long? Which method?"

"Willing victims. Turning brides slowly, feeding off of them for days until they're ready - not that he hurts them. And then… he travels. He shares his prey. He turns a few per year, bites many. At least, that's what happened in the old days. Perhaps he's grown reckless. It seems as if he has, biting your friend and not keeping her with him. The bond weakens the farther apart you are."

"Are you still bonded to this guy?"

Daniela's face clouded, eyes unmistakably sad. "No. No, when he casts you out, you lose all the connections of a claim, of your vows."

Cordelia's voice softened, "That has to hurt."

"You cannot imagine. Mortals love and marry for less than a century. I was his for four times that. It hurt worse than you can imagine, but Dracula… for once he realized that I was more than a possession."

"What do you mean?"

"He did not give me away to another. He didn't end me."

"Is that how he usually 'divorces' someone? Holy cow, restraining order!"

Daniela's smile flickered to life and faded. "He is charming. He has faults."

"You have a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome, lady. He has _faults_? He's a controlling bigamist who has a major fidelity problem and a body count that crosses time zones and centuries." Cordelia's eyes were huge, her considerably wide mouth gaping.

The smile returned, with a little titter of laughter. "I like you."

Cordelia's jaw snapped closed in surprise. "That's probably the nicest thing a hostage has ever said to me. Don't ask me to let you go or anything, though. You're probably the only one who has the information we need."

"What information could that be?"

* * *

"Is it working?" Angel hissed.

"I don't know. But I take back everything I said about her being a terrible actress. The Countess has no idea," Wesley whispered a reply, both stepping back from the door. In the next room over, Anya, Willow, Tara, and Giles sat with a book in front of them, censor burning a strand of the Countess' hair and the cloth with her blood on it. "You're a very good actor as well. No need to be so forceful in obtaining the 'ingredients'."

Angel didn't smile, didn't look at the man he employed, who considered himself a friend. "Who says I was acting?" Getting the required blood and hair in the struggle with the Countess has been very… satisfying.

"You could have gotten it while she was still unconscious, a quick prick with a needle, a single hair, never missed."

"Shut up, this is it."

* * *

"How do we kill him? In the 'really, truly dead' way?"

"Ha! You'll have to kill me first. That I would never tell."

"Do you even know?" Cordelia asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The Countess' voice shifted, dragging unwillingly, her eyes suddenly closing. "Yes… I do know. Probably the only one who he has trusted." She jolted upright as she stopped speaking, eyes startled. "What was that? What did I say?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing important. Just that he trusted you."

"Dracula and I were happy for many years. He allowed me my freedom in the end when I was unhappy. I must never hurt him."

"You won't hurt him. You might help a lot of other girls, though. Girls he's not so nice to. You're all about love and passion. My friend doesn't have those feelings for him."

"She will, in time."

"That's going to be a solid no. No way in hell. She'll die first."

"He'll be there at the moment of her death, to claim what is his."

* * *

"Is everything she says true?"

"Every word. You can tell it's working, listen to how her voice changes. When she resists, the spell forces."

Angel surged forward and Wesley frantically grabbed his elbow. "Angel, no!"

"Cordelia's taking too long!"

"She has finesse!"

"I should be the one doing this! I'm supposed to help Buffy! This is the only thing I can do for her!"

"Your ego is not the answer. Now, sit!" Wesley shoved Angel backward and the hulking figure landed on his backside, look startled. "That is, please, sit," Wesley revised nervously.

* * *

"Great, the natives are restless- and wrestling," Cordelia sighed as thuds and crashes were heard directly against the door.

"You have quite the pair. Delectable."

"Not so tasty once you get to know them. Mr. Broody and Mr. Uptight. Is Dracula big on the brooding?"

"No, he takes action- although the course may be hidden and long."

"So, if we wanted to take some action against him… Is there some way to undo this arranged marriage thing? Was there any girl he ever let go?"

"No. He cannot stand to lose. Pride, you see."

"I hear that." Cordelia shifted in her chair. "What if he _wanted _to let her go? Has he ever, ever broken a- what'd you call it?"

Daniela shook her head. "There was a woman he wanted. She escaped before things were complete. Young, virginal, engaged to be wed to some human- handsome, strapping, virtuous. I told Dracula not to bother with her, she was for his sport, would add nothing to our family. He wouldn't listen. He's stubborn, terribly stubborn."

"Damn, he and Angel could have a freaking club," Cordelia muttered under her breath. She heard a particularly vicious thud outside the door and recalled that under her breath was still possibly audible for Angel's ears. "What happened? To Virgin and Virtuous?"

"He showed up on their wedding night, before the consummation. Killed the groom. Killed the girl. Didn't turn her, he was just setting an example. He doesn't like to be made a fool of. No one questions him."

"Control freak much?"

"I much prefer being my own woman," Daniela whispered in a conspiratorial voice.

"You can get back to Paris and your own womanly ways as soon as you tell me how you kill this guy. The_ real _way, the ending it all way. Please."

"What happens if not?"

"Pretty sure my boss will kill you in a pretty disgusting, vile, horrible way that will ruin the carpet and make me avoid him for a couple of months." Cordelia shuddered.

"Dracula would know I told you."

"He'd be dead, though, so would that matter?"

No answer.

"Tell me how. If you know, tell me how," Cordelia said in a firm voice.

Daniela's voice wavered, "You must kill him when he is in human form, not beast, nor mist. You must-" Her voice suddenly went dull and face slack.

Whatever she'd been about to say was either not entirely true or an outright lie, Cordelia realized. "Okay, human body, got it. What next?"

"Hands, heart, head."

"What?"

"Hands. Heart. Head. He was taken as one of the gypsy princes, long ago. They blessed his hands. He can re-form, he can always re-form if his hands were not first removed."

"Ewww! Cut off his hands?"

"Who would have thought of it? He was clever." Daniela's voice went from normal and conversational to flat and dead without warning, the effect disconcerting and vaguely frightening, like speaking to one possessed, in a trance. "The hands first. Then a stake through the heart and his head removed at once, exactly the same moment. No single being could do it. You must have two warriors in perfect harmony, perfectly attuned, able to move in perfect unison. They must read each other perfectly, two bodies moving as one something none of have mastered, none _will_ master. He will live forever."

* * *

"Two people who are like- psychically linked, who fight together like a single machine! Where the hell are you going to find another Slayer- oh, wait. Faith. In jail. We could bust her out. But they don't exactly get along. I wouldn't say they're mentally attuned," Cordelia ranted and wrung her hands.

"Is the vampire lady okay?" Anya asked.

"She passed out when the spell was done. Having your will subverted must be exhausting." Wesley looked toward the slumped figure with concern. "Angel, when she wakes up… you'll have made a powerful enemy of her."

"I'm more concerned that she'll try to warn Dracula," Giles said.

"So, I kill her. No one to tell."

"No!" Tara protested. "You can't do that! You heard what Cordelia said. She's just trying to be loyal to the man who controlled her for years. She's finally free and she's not hurting humans. She - she doesn't deserve to die. Does she?" Heads reluctantly or vigorously shook, but Angel's stood still.

"Memory spell. Lethe's bramble," Willow spoke up. "If- if she could forget she was here…"

"She wouldn't be a threat. No need to kill her. I'm for that." Anya raised her hand.

"Let's save the ugly death for demons who hurt innocents, okay, Big and Broody?" Cordelia leaned on Angel's arm affectionately, hoping the worry in her eyes was concealed.

"I'll take her back," Angel said grimly.

"I think I'll do that." Wesley gently disengaged Angel's hand from the keys that opened the Countess' shackles. "You have a more pressing problem to sort out. Who in the world could match Buffy and be perfectly in sync with her?"

Everyone looked grave and pensive.

It has to be me, Angel thought.

Giles was thinking differently. He thought of the way Buffy had looked at Spike and announced, "You hurt" without even speaking to him.

_She reads him. _

He thought of the way he stood with her.

_They way they move. _

_ Like people in love._

_ Claimed, bound people. But she's not a vampire. It's not the same._

_ Perhaps it doesn't need to be._ "I believe we have an answer. It's waiting at home. Willow, can you perform the spell you mentioned?"

"I have Lethe's bramble." Wesley motioned her to follow him.

"I need a crystal and sacred sage."

"In my purse. Always," Tara confessed with a sly smile.

"What's waiting at home?" Angel trailed Giles and Anya as they moved away.

"Buffy."

"But-"

"Buffy has help."

"What kind of help?"

"Anya, see if you can assist Willow." Giles gently shuffled her to the side so that he could face Angel. "That is her business. She has what she needs. And you've helped her immensely. She'll be most grateful, as am I."

Angel's face was stiff as he nodded. "She's going to need me. For this fight. No one works together like we do. We did. She's the only one I ever loved, Giles. She needs me. Buffy and I-"

"Are no longer moving as one. You made that abundantly clear when you left her and your roads diverged."

"But-"

"I'm sorry I should have been more clear. I should have said, 'She has _whom_ she needs.'" Giles turned and sidestepped Angel, leaving the vampire staring after him, unhappy and uncomprehending.

_To be continued…_

* * *

_End note: Sorry for the long delay, but I hope you find it worth it! I finished and published the third and final book in the spuffy-inspired paranormal erotica series, CrossRealms:Whole by S.C. Principale (available on Amazon) and I wrote and finished Screw Loose, Screwed Up, and Just Plain Screwed, a spuffy fanfic (available here). (It's all finished, it's just not all posted yet) Hope you enjoy!_


	21. Part XXI

**Kindred **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

_Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay! But, hopefully you're enjoying Screw Loose, Screwed Up, and Just Plain Screwed in the meantime. I promise to get a little more frequent here! If it's any comfort this piece is already up the 30th chapter, just not all posted!_

**Part XXI**

Wesley thought, unreasonably, he supposed, that vampires would be heavier. They were so supernaturally strong and powerful. He'd supported Angel following a few fights and the bulky man was solid muscle. He expected the Countess to weigh him down like iron chains draped about him, and instead she weighed no more, perhaps less, than an ordinary woman. He juggled the book and the body in his arms and dropped the peeling leather volume with a hiss when they landed in a lavish bedroom suite.

"Oh dear." He sidestepped the book and hurriedly placed the Countess on her bed and rushed to retrieve the spell that would open the portal and take him back to a growling, pacing Angel and an annoyed Cordelia. "Spatium foribus portarum-"

"You're not Angelus."

"Bloody hell!" Wesley gasped out the oath which had a decidedly negative impact on the portal that had just begun to form. The opening now glowed hot and red. "Finis!" He closed his first attempt and stood still. Dare he attempt to open another one so soon? The Countess was awake and not likely to remain quiet and content with a strange man in her room performing spells. All the reassurances that she no longer killed might not pertain to invaders in her home.

"Have we met?" Daniela got off the bed with a woozy stumble and approached the handsome man who seemed vaguely familiar. She'd admired him before, briefly, a passing encounter that hadn't amounted to much, perhaps?

Wesley turned and tried to brazen this out. The parameters of Willow's spell were to make the Countess forget her encounter with them and forget the information wrested from her. Apparently, certain subconscious impressions remained- as well as the recollection of Angelus appearing in her home. "Yes. Today."

"Did I... " The Countess hesitated, then frowned, "I would not have picked a lover who would take advantage of a situation, a lover who would maneuver me into my bedroom without my knowledge."

"Lover? Advantage? Oh, no! No, no, I had no-"

But Daniela didn't let him finish whatever poorly constructed explanation might have been about to pass his lips, circling and pacing, hands running over her body, her wrists and face. "Angelus would have no such qualms." Her eyes took in the bruises on her arms, felt the swelling of her upper lip. "Chained? Until he finished with me? Tell me, did you watch? Do you know… how bad it was?"

"Please, Countess, I promise you, nothing untoward- well, nothing of _that_ nature happened. I swear it. Angel-us," he switched the moniker at the last second and hoped she wouldn't notice, "did indeed visit you in your home, hoping you were- uh- able to offer him information. But you weren't willing to. He was stopped from harming you. I -uh remained with you until I was sure you were quite all right. I'm sorry for the inconvenience and I'll let you go about your business." All of that was true. Angel wanted information about Dracula. Daniela was unwilling to give it. She was forced to under a spell that she wouldn't recall, and when Angel had suggested killing her to leave no witnesses, Wesley and the others had prevented such unnecessary destruction.

Daniela felt sore and tired. Hungry. "Angelus prevented from harming his intended victim?" _Only someone powerful… A man who can open holes in time and space in the middle of my boudoir seems rather powerful. Sorcerer._ "The handsome sorcerer protects a vampire? Why?"

"You were forthcoming about your feeding habits, no longer killing," he said quietly. "If more vampires would live as you do, the world would be a different place."

Soft spoken. Not bragging. Not blustering. "You are refreshing." She imagined he tasted that way, too. Like warm brandy and citrus, like clean rain and the English countryside.

Wesley found himself blushing, but he didn't know why. There was nothing untoward about her comments. She wouldn't remember the flirtatious, or perhaps merely truthful, exchanges of earlier.

"And the blood rushes to his cheeks," she smiled, lips aching over the quickly healing split. "He is a gentleman. He protects my life and my virtue- such as it is."

"Well, he, that is, I, try."

"May I offer you a drink. It's not too early?"

"It is not indeed." It was dark in Paris, past sunset. "But, I won't, thank you. I must get back."

"Must you? Even if I wanted you to remain?"

There was something lilting in her voice. Wesley recalled with Angel had said about Dracula's brides having his gift of thrall, to a lesser degree. He blinked hard. "Do your lovers have freewill, or are they enthralled?"

She looked offended for a second, then smiled sadly. "Enthralled by my charms only, or so I like to think. I prefer genuine emotion after centuries of finding my own feelings … muted. I like full volume." Red nails delicately took the arm of a late model victrola and put the needle on a record. "Do you like the classics, Mr.- Oh. I don't even know your name."

"Wesley."

"Wesley. Very puritanical."

"My mother had a warped sense of humor. She would have had to, after marrying my father," he said dryly.

"Wesley is witty. Refreshing, charming, a gentleman of power and thought. Dear me. I have only known you for a few minutes and I can list more attributes for you than I can for men I've known for weeks."

"You are too kind." Wesley backed away from the dark entrancing eyes and the beautiful smile, the music that was seductive.

"I can't repay you for your assistance?"

'"No repayment is necessary."

The Countess hesitated. "It's been a very long time since I met someone I would ask to come for a visit, just because I was curious about him. I extend you the offer. If you have to leave now… will you return sometime soon, Mr. Wesley?"

The portal still wasn't open. He had no idea if it would be safe to try again so soon. He had no idea if it would be safe to remain here, either. "I wouldn't insult a lady by asking what would happen if I said no-"

"-but you would like to know?" she laughed, light and golden, richer than silver, deeper, coming from the region of her chest rather than her throat. "Nothing happens. I remain curious about Wesley. He refuses to satisfy me."

He could have sworn the portal with its red hot plasma was open again. She meant the phrase innocently. His wayward mind misconstrued. That was all.

"I will not detain you, if you would show me the same courtesy. The brute tore my seams." Daniela looked at her shoulder and one sleeve with a grimace- before she reached round and unzipped her chic lilac dress. Wesley turned his back abruptly, breathing silently, but much harder. She smiled to herself. "So… Angelus had me bound and restrained- and he only ripped one sleeve? A small price to pay. You should have heard what he did to my ex-husband's people."

"Your- ex-husband?" Wesley wanted to avoid this topic at all costs, but his tongue tripped heavily over the question.

"I'll spare you the grisly details. It was tragic. There is bad blood between them. The gypsies and the Romany will never forgive nor aid Angelus. My husband was an adopted son of the Romany. He never took a bride, nor son, nor daughter, never took a single soul from their tribes unless they wanted the honor."

"The honor?"

"Some considered it such." She now stood in front of her wardrobe, stepping out of her dress and heels, wearing a black lace underwear with a matching bra that uplifted generous, creamy breasts. She turned to look at Wesley. His back was still turned. Truly a gentleman. She pulled on a royal blue robe and laughed sourly. "At least the color matches the wounds."

"Arnica."

"Pardon?"

He repeated himself with a cough, speaking louder without turning to face her, "Arnica. Arnica on wounds and contusions. Heals them more quickly."

"I shall remember that. I haven't suffered an injury in many, many years. I don't play roughly with my lovers and they don't play roughly with me. Well… not rough enough to bruise. My modesty is in tact, good Sir Wesley. You may turn."

God, why was his heart beating so hard? _Demon. She's a demon. A demon who is stunningly beautiful and well-spoken. Excellent taste in music. Fashionable, according to Cordelia. _"It's just plain Welsey. Christian name. As for the arnica, I imagine you can get it at the local homeopathic shop or some chemists carry it. I have some, but- hardly worth popping home and back."

"I could make your visit enjoyable." She stepped closer.

"I know you could." Oh cursed, betraying tongue. He locked his jaws.

"You do know what I am?" The Countess suddenly asked with a worried frown.

"Yes." He frowned as well. He'd made reference to that. They'd made _multiple_ references to vampires and vampiric acts.

She shook her head and put a hand to it. "I'm so sorry. I feel just a little confused. As if- I had a very vivid dream that I cannot remember upon waking. Achey. Tired. Hungry. I need blood to heal. Is it -" she looked at the golden Ormolu clock, "after six? Yes, the servants will have left." Her eyes closed and her hand searched among the long midnight-colored tresses, wincing when she found two different lumps on her skull. "Angelus made these. Mortals don't hit so hard and leave so much damage."

Again, his mouth moved without his brain orchestrating, "Is there blood in the house?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "Yes."

_Oh. Me._ "Can I get it for you?"

_Why in God's name did I ask that? Is she going to think I was offering…_

_Well. Am I?_

Another penetrating stare that seemed to be taking off layers of clothes as well as inhibitions. "The wet bar in the sitting room." She pointed to the double doors at the end of her room.

Wesley nodded woodenly and walked slowly forward, sighing silently in relief. He told himself it was relief. He opened the double doors with their L-shaped golden handles and entered the sitting room of the suite. She had moved with the times, as Giles had informed them, as Cordelia had noticed with her clothing. There were fine antiques everywhere, but there was also a huge television and a desk with a laptop and rolling office chair, a wet bar filled with crystal decanters next to bottles of liquor and vodka. He assumed this bar was for her use and those of her lovers who knew what her diet was. He wondered if the servants knew or not. Inside the small fridge, past bottles and cans, were three bags with dark red fluid. Each bore a name and a date. "Does it matter which one?" he called loudly.

Her voice was only a few feet away, making him gasp and jump, sending cans rolling. There was a smile in her eyes as she answered, "Is there any Jacques R.? Or Fabian?"

The names refer to the donors._ I imagine they were _willing _donors._ He looked up at her for a split second._ Very willing. _His voice was struggling to remain steady as he read aloud."Um. Hrm. Philip. Maxwell. Fabian. Yes, here you are." He held out the third bag nervously.

She took a long stemmed glass from the side cabinet. "Would you care for a drink? Obviously not Fabian, he gifted this to me for my private use."

Curiosity overcame him. "Your lovers leave you these practical sorts of presents?"

"Yes, if they know they have to go out of town on business, they often offer to leave a few pints 'in the larder' for me." Her smile grew as she pressed a button on the microwave above the sink and put the bag in. "I don't let it get too hot. It tastes burnt."

"Good to know," he replied, having no idea _why_ it would be good to know._ For Angel. Angel who is probably growing more frantic by the second. Remember him?_

_Not at the moment. _"They don't mind?"

"What, that I'm a vampire? They can hardly change it if they do. Nor can I."

"Why don't you hunt humans?"

"I don't enjoy pain. I don't inflict it," she said simply.

"But- the evil in your nature?" he concluded lamely.

"Oh, I'll gladly ask one of my dear gentlemen to manipulate a store's database and have them send a 90% off coupon for any item in the store, including new arrivals. I'll even seduce someone's husband, providing his wife seems suitably odious or he seems suitably underappreciated. The definition of evil is very inconsistent, wouldn't you say? In my day, a woman who entertained so many men in the carnal sense of the word would have been deemed a harlot, a tool of the devil. Today, I'm simply liberated. _Selectively_ liberated." Daniela smiled complacently as she retrieved the bag and poured the liquid into the wineglass. "I like my evil fashionable, darling."

For the first time all day, in several days, Wesley felt a genuine smile cross his face. "Perhaps something quick. Sherry?"

"How predictably English." Daniela reached past one decanter and pulled out something darker in color and sharper in scent. "You are not predictable. You are unique." She poured him a glass and clinked hers to it. "A votre santé."

_What a remarkable day. What a remarkable woman. What the hell?_ "Cheers."

* * *

"We got it. We got it, we know how to do it!" Giles was so giddy that he hugged Buffy. He hugged Xander. He utterly forgot himself and hugged Spike, thumping him on the back as he would a grown son come home from university after weeks away.

"Steady on, Rupes," Spike muttered in his ear, even though he couldn't hide his smile. It wasn't out of place. Everyone was smiling. Beaming. Hugging. He managed to pull a scowl out of his "former villain of the piece" repertoire, but his wife nudged him in the ribs and knocked it off his face.

"Hurray and yay to the celebratory touching, but shouldn't we tell Buffy and shouldn't you be worrying? Aren't the Council people and their ambiguous help arriving soon?" Anya tugged Giles' sleeve with a tight smile.

"They should have arrived at the airport in Los Angeles already. I suppose I should have offered Travers a lift, but…"

"But no one deserves to manage LA traffic _and _that bastard?" Spike suggested.

"Precisely. Sit, sit. As always, there is a bit of a catch."

"Spill. I'm used to catches." Buffy sat and tugged Spike's arm to bring him beside her.

"Angel was able to procure Dracula's former wife, the Countess with the very long name."

"I liked her. If she wasn't a vampire, I think she'd have made an excellent Vengeance Demon, specializing in subjugated females." Anya looked thoughtful. "I wonder if D'Hoffryn would-"

"Anya, one existential crisis at a time. Let's focus on keeping Buffy mortal before we worry if D'Hoffryn would consider demon comorbidity," Xander suggested, squeezing Anya's knee gently as she straddled his lap.

The room went silent. Willow knelt down and peered over Anya's shoulder into Xander's eyes- then reached out a jabbed him squarely between his brows. "Who are you and where is the guy who asked me what iambic pentameter was in inches?"

"You were gone, Buffy and Spike bailed, I was bored, I read some of the textbooks you left lying around. Only because Giles threatened me with death and cross-referencing duty if I read_ his_ books."

"Let's not forget the last time you happened to read aloud." Giles winced.

"This is fascinating. Droopy Boy has gained some valuable college vocabulary. Can we get back to how my- Slayer kills the Caped Braggart?"

Giles stared at the vampire intently under the guise of shifting some notes from his pocket to his lap, looking up at him under lowered lids._ His slayer, hm? His because he's marked her, claimed her as kindred, and his because she's claimed him back._ "Dracula's former wife was loyal to him as her sire, not her husband or lover. The truth spell worked on her, however."

"Poor thing. It really weakened her," Tara murmured.

Giles nodded, "But she'll survive. She was, as Anya said, a likable creature. Woman. She certainly had the measure of him. She also mentioned that no woman had ever managed to avoid her fate once Dracula had set his sights on her. Even if he didn't love them or intend to keep them for long…" he paused, debating whether to tell Buffy about the one who had nearly gotten away.

Tara surprised him by speaking up. She didn't need to raise her voice. When she talked, so quietly and seriously, the room paused for her. "One girl tried. She was already engaged. She managed to escape from him long enough to marry the man she loved- Dracula showed up on their wedding night. Killed them both. Just to teach a lesson. Juet to send a message to everyone in that town, everyone who encountered him." Her voice was shaking now, white-violet sparks sprinkling the floor under her feet as her hands twitched in her lap. "He killed someone he claimed to love, rather than let her love anyone else. Selfish, Buffy. He's selfish and dangerous. Watch out for the ones who put themselves first, the ones like-"

Somehow she was standing now, trembling, Willow rising with her, eyes wide.

Then she sat heavily. "I'm so sorry. I - Giles, could I make some tea?"

"Please. For all of us, if you wouldn't mind?" The Watcher agreed at once.

She nodded, grateful for the escape.

Spike sniffed in. Fear. Anger. Guilt. "She was about to say the name of your army lad," he announced conversationally as soon as Tara was out of the room.

"Shut up!" Willow hissed.

"No. No, Will, Spike's right. Tara's right. Selfish ones are the ones you watch out for. The ones who hurt you or leave you. Give me the guy who would stick with you for a hundred years, no matter what you did," Buffy's tone turned affectionate and her head leaned toward Spike's shoulder- just in time to catch the sofa as he abruptly rose.

"I dunno who I'm worried about more, Dracula or Finn." Spike paced. _At least Slayer and I were right. A wedding would draw him out. Draw him out, fangs out. _

_But now we have a way to put him down, permanently. _

"I'd bet on Dracula," Anya stated practically. "Buffy can kick Riley's ass. Dracula's ass just changes shape."

"Ah, but we have a method that will solve the pesky ass problem!" Giles sounded triumphant- which was hard to do considering the farcical quality of what he'd just said.

"Spandex?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

Giles shook his head and sighed. "His hands. His hands are the source of his power, not his demonic nature but his sorcery, his tricks that enable him to go above and beyond what any other vampire can achieve. His hands must be cut off and then his head and heart must be attacked simultaneously, decapitation and staking, at precisely the same moment."

"A two pronged attack!" Xander rubbed his hand gleefully. "Like Macarthur and Nimitz in the Pacific!" At everyone's stunned looks, he rolled his eyes, "That's military history, something I happen to enjoy after my time in 'Nam."

"That was one Halloween!" Willow cried.

"You never forget, lady," he replied in his gritty "soldier voice" that apparently caused Anya's knees to weaken. Xander suddenly found himself with an armful of admiring ex-demon and a beaming best friend. "So, we get him pinned down, we count to three and we do the grossest and yet oddly most satisfying high five ever in a big ol' shower of Dracu-dust, thus ending the reign of terror and insect-eating once and for all."

"I would love it to be so simple," Giles began.

"Here comes the catch," Buffy sighed, gratefully taking a cup of tea from Tara as she returned.

"The Countess- did I mention she no longer kills? She - well, that's another story. She said such a task can only be performed by warriors who are perfectly attuned, who move as one, who read each other perfectly. Buffy, you're obviously one of the two, but even without his hands, even with a binding spell cast by Four Corners, we must be prepared to fight him to his last moments of life- or unlife. The Countess claimed he will live forever. He's that confident that no one will learn his secret, or once they do, there won't be two beings with that level of connection. Not two who would fight him, at any rate. I imagine the bond he shares with his brides is very intense. You claimed he could speak to you, he could penetrate your mind."

"He hasn't lately." Buffy avoided meeting anyone's eyes. _The bond is broken. He has to realize it. That means he's just biding his time, maybe he's realized I can fight a bond, I can fight him, and he wants to build a better battle plan. Or he's still healing from the attack and the double-dusting. Spike is the only one who can penetrate my thoughts, talk to me in my dreams. _Her head turned slightly_. Always feel him when he's near me. _

"Mmhm." Giles surveyed the uncomfortable looks Buffy and Spike darted at each other as he paced his living room-slash-library-slash-Watcher's office. They'd been exchanging blood and "intimacies" for days. They seemed to genuinely respect each other, they could command loyalty, they could love._ Oh, dammit, yes, they could, and they could do it in ways that Drusilla couldn't do it in a century or Angel couldn't do with or without a soul. _

It was one of those split second decisions he would regret in the moment, actually regret _as_ he was doing it, and later pat himself on the back. He hoped. Or, he would create a memorable disaster. Either way…

He moved surprisingly fast for a human much older than his slayer, for a man much more ordinary than the vampire. Two weapons from the shelf found their way into his hands, a large curved dagger made to be thrown and find its mark, and a crossbow with slender, rapier-sharp wooden bolts.

He had very good aim. He had very good training. In his head, he counted from ten and reached zero, turned, saw where they were in proximity to each other, hurled with one hand, pulled the trigger with the other.

"Slayer!" His voice a snarl and his face shifting as his body moved.

"Spike!" No breathless little girl in her tones anymore, this was someone who would call out the demons in the dark and challenge them to invade her turf.

And Spike was hers.

She was his.

"Down." One word, two mouths, two bodies that met in the middle of the floor as they toppled each other and the bolt went sailing into a door jamb and the dagger ruined his desk chair.

In the split second that followed, Willow screeched, Tara's ashen fingers dropped the two remaining mugs of tea, and Xander and Anya proved they were also very well attuned by cursing out Giles in perfect chorus.

Xander began, "What the hell kind of a-"

"-stupid stunt was that? You could have-"

"-killed one of them, or one of us, or-"

"- both of them or two of us!" Anya ended with a shriek.

"Can we all calm down?" Giles asked mildly, ignoring the hectoring from Anya and Xander and watching Buffy and Spike grip each other by the shoulder, unspeaking, looking each other over.

"Okay?" He breathed, nodding at her.

"Okay." She nodded back and surged into his arms, kissing him and not caring.

Giles looked pleased. _She moved to protect him, he to protect her, both saved, and their actions were instantaneous and simultaneous._ "_There_ are the two warriors in tune. Dracula won't live forever. Just until he crosses paths with them."

_To be continued…_

_Thank you again for all the awesome reviews and the nice notes! Also, in answer to a question I got- yes, the S.C. Principale spuffy-inspired erotica/romance books are available in the UK, Canada, Europe, etc. I think you just have to go into your own country's Amazon store. If you have any questions, drop me a PM. Love, Sweet_


	22. Part XXII

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

**Part XXII**

"The- I- I am seeing this, right?" Xander managed to choke out.

"Spike and Buffy kissing like long lost lovers reunited after escaping death? Yes. We all see that." Anya blinked and rubbed her eyes just to make sure. "Oh. Boyfriend? Buffy? _Buffy! _Are you and Riley officially broken up?"

"Oh! Crap, with all the excited 'ding-dong-the-Drac-will-die' stuff that was happening as soon as you got in, I forgot to mention there was a message from Riley."

"Huh?" Buffy jerked her head away from Spike's. "Riley? He's okay?"

"Uh. No. He's very, very _not_ okay."

"His heart?" Buffy yelped, stricken. If Riley had suffered some complication while she was blithely (well, blithely was a stretch) embarking on a new relationship. Sadness, yes. Guilt, some. Heartbreak? Nope.

Xander shook his head. "No, his brain!"

"Wait a second, we were here for like three hours before Giles and the gang got back! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you _got_ here three hours before, but you didn't _stay_ here, didja? You came, checked on me, looked at Willow's textbooks, screamed, and said you had to go to the campus bookstore," Xander pointed out reasonably.

"Yeah, Luv, we did sort of ditch him once you hit the panic button," Spike agreed. That wasn't the only reason they weren't timely in their actions. As Buffy had suggested earlier, they stopped by Spike's crypt to get a few items to take to the newly accessible dorms. And while they were there, Spike had pointed out that the upper level of the crypt was where they had shared their first passionate kisses, and so they recreated that moment. Then Buffy pointed out that the bed below was where they had first begun exploring each other and they should recreate that moment, too. Then expand on it.

"Can we go back to the liplock?" Anya demanded.

"It's the bond. You have to kiss. So, we, uh, kissed. And when you feel like your kindred one is threatened," Buffy began a plausible explanation that quickly fell to the wayside. "I thought I might lose him."

"Never lose me, Slayer." Spike reached for her head and it looked like another kiss was about to erupt, so Xander frantically interrupted.

"Joyce called, too."

"Just when were you planning to give us all this lovely news?" Giles asked waspishly.

"Right after you stopped telling me about the plan and right _before_ you went repressed repo man on my friends!" Xander shouted, equally grouchy. "Oh, shit. I just included Spike as a friend."

"There, there," Willow said in a toneless voice, eyes wide and face slack in shock.

"Brothers in arms," Spike muttered, giving the boy a sidelong glance.

"Well… yeah, fine. Comrades, then. So, now that you're done scaring us to death- or more to death- want to hear about the off-the-wall messages?"

"Yes, please. The short version. Summarize," Giles requested.

"I had one uber weird phone call from Riley, who hung up on me when I said Buffy wasn't here- 'cause she wasn't at the time and then one_ really _long call from Joyce, which said, and I summarize, 'Riley is nuts and he thinks Giles is a vampire. Also, I may have told him that Buffy's hanging out with Spike and she wants to break up.' Then,-"

Xander didn't finish. Buffy, who had just stood up, fell back down, knees going out. "She WHAT?"

Spike smacked his hands to his forehead and dragged them back through his hair, eyes closed as he hissed, "Well, bugger that. The bastard'll be out of his hospital robes and into his 'murdering Spike' gear in no time. Slayer-"

Buffy's eyes were hard, voice harder. "We need his chip out."

"Excuse me, what?" Xander shook his head uncomprehendingly. "Spike is a murdering vampire!"

"Is that any way to talk about your brother?" Spike cocked his head and crossed his arms with a glimmer of a snarky smile.

"The Countess doesn't have a chip," Tara whispered.

"Yeah, well, she's not exactly a model citizen. Wait, is she?" Xander looked from Anya to Giles.

Giles shrugged. "She's not a killer. She has lived for decades without harming a human, if her words were to be believed- and they should be. She was under the truth spell as she spoke. I could have Wesley do a bit of digging into her background as well."

"That doesn't matter!" Buffy snapped.

"Spike did once kidnap my boyfriend. I'd feel better if-"

"What one vampire does has no bearing on what another one does! Not now. Not in this case!" Willow talked over the babble.

Everyone paused. "Was that meant to be against me or for me, Red?"

"Um. I - I'm not actually sure, now that I've said it." Willow blushed.

"If Spike can't defend himself against Riley, then Riley could kill him. And if I don't have Spike, I can't kill Dracula. Who wants to start racking up frequent flyer miles to come see me in my new home-sweet-prison?"

More silence. "Who could get the thing out, Pet? I love the idea, you know I do, but who in the world could do that and not leave me a doddering vegetable while I'm healing? At that point, that's when Spooky'll strike."

"The people who put things in usually know how to get them out. The Initiative would never play ball," Anya pointed out, tapping her fingers on her knee. "If Riley were on our side, maybe he could convince one of those doctors who fixed his heart to fix Spike's head, but I'm betting that since your mother told him you want to call it quits, he-"

"Oh God! My mother!" Buffy wailed. "This day cannot get any wor-"

"Shhh!" Xander sprang forward, finger smushing to her lips, his eyes frantic. "Do not invoke-hay ertain-say oom-day."

"What?" Buffy asked in a muffled voice, pushing his hand away.

"The 'nothing can go wrong' rule." Xander formed quotes in the air. "Leads to certain doom. Works with 'it can't get any worse', too. That's why I'm doing the big, exaggerated finger quotes. So the Powers That Be understand I'm not saying it. Just a hypothetical reference, here."

"Properties." Tara tapped Spike on the arm and flinched as he whirled.

He clicked his tongue, frustrated at himself. It hurt to see his sister so - _Bloody hell. I will not, will not, _will not_ start thinking of them like that. _

_Except for Joyce. Mum. It suits her. _ He shook his head to refocus and Tara stepped closer, both of them abandoning Willow, Giles, Xander, and Buffy to a gabble of confused noises. "Sorry to scare you."

"You m-move so fast." Tara shrugged.

"But I can't cast spells, Luv," he said with a chuckle. "An' I don't bite. Wouldn't bite you, anyway."

She managed a little smile at that and reached up for his forehead, drawing her fingers back at the last second. "Can I try something?"

"Be my guest." He mentally promised himself that if it hurt, he wouldn't let her see that and he most definitely wouldn't growl or flash his nightlight eyes at her.

"The chip was made by scientists. It sends shocks. So, it has to be metal and wires and …" Tara stopped talking as her fingers pushed past the stiffness of gelled platinum hair and made contact with his scalp.

Across the room, Buffy stopped talking. Spike had tensed up, she could feel it. Something like anxiety was hovering in him, yet when she turned her head, she could see him standing casually, leaning against the wall, head tilted so Tara could reach the top of his head easily. "Stop." She held up a waving palm at her friends and the argument died.

Her eyes were closed, looking at something her outward eyes couldn't see. "Metal. Copper. Silver. Nickel? We could melt it. But that'd hurt."

Melting metal. Inside his head. He kept his voice indifferent. "Hurts to get zapped."

"The wires, they'd melt, too."

Another voice joined the conversation. "Hey. That spell. Giles, the numbing spell that is supposed to only work on the surface but it works on everything else? The one where you can't even feel yourself breathing or talking," Buffy tugged Giles' arm and moved toward Tara and Spike. "It doesn't last long. How long would it take?"

Willow, not entirely sure she agreed with the words coming out of her mouth (or rather the purpose of them) mused, "If I do some super concentrated blast of heat, magical heat aimed at the chip, I could melt it in seconds. Maybe a minute. But it's in his brain. You can't leave a blob of molten metal and rubber in his brain. I don't know how exactly vampire physiology works, but I can tell you that the brain still has some sort of nervous system or motor control happening, or this inter-cranium shock collar wouldn't work. We could end up incapacitating Spike for a long time." She didn't say the word _permanently_, but it danced around her lips.

"Oh, if it's in a liquid state, you should be able to extract it without too much damage. Through the nose. Or do elemental magic to change the fire-state to water-state and it'll leak out. I mean, boiling hot water, but still, if he's going to be supernaturally numb-" Anya shrugged.

"I'm beginning to feel a whole lot better about losin' to you lot all the time. You've got some bloody smart birds in this flock." Spike looked up with a smile.

Xander didn't smile back.

_Dammit. This whole familial thing is goin' too far._ Spike grimaced. He resisted the burning urge to do something comforting as he felt Buffy's frustration, tiredness, and sadness hidden under a bland expression. Resisted his own muted instinct that said you shouldn't leave family out to dry, whether it be alone in a dungeon or sitting in a wheelchair, or simply remembering the last time a "good" vamp had gone bad and nearly destroyed them all. Looked at her again. Gave. "What'll it take?" he sighed heavily.

"Huh?" Xander looked around, making sure Spike was actually addressing him.

"Very eloquent," he scoffed. "What'll it take to convince you I'll be a good boy?"

"A soul?" Xander's eyes were challenging- then wavered._ Yeah. That could help. Didn't turn out to be too surefire. And even with a soul- he still hurt her._

Spike snorted. "Like the serial killers and murderers have? No, thank you."

"Is it enough if I can- can feel what he's thinking? Wanting?" Buffy asked.

"You can feel that?" Giles asked. Spike also looked mildly surprised.

"Not every detail. Just impressions. We're kind of mentally attached. In the good way! Not in the creepy 'Your will is not your own, have some spiders and a side of flies' way."

At the mention of his previous insectivore tendencies, Xander winced. "I've never met a vampire who didn't chow down on people - without a soul or a chip. I'll- I'll do whatever you need to do to beat Dracula, but I wish there was someone who-"

"Oooh, the Countess lady. Daniela!" Willow interjected excitedly, again not knowing whose case she was helping. "She did it. Not chowing down on people. In the fatal way. Or even in the nonconsensual way."

"She _says _she did it."

"Truth spell."

Buffy halted the argument. "Well… I'll ask Angel to check up on her past or her lifestyle, un-lifestyle, whatever. He's good at finding out information and then dropping cryptic hints before disappearing. Only I'll tell him to skip the cryptic and go large on the disappearing," Buffy said bluntly. "But that's secondary. That's about having some intel in our back pocket. Dealing with Spike's chip and Riley's delusions and- oh God- _my mother_\- is the priority." Buffy crossed her arms and sighed, leaning back against Spike.

Xander exchanged a sidelong look with Willow. Not crazy about Spike. But hearing Buffy speak so candidly about Angel and his disappearing act- and wanting the disappearing act? No more longing for the jerk? Xander could get behind that. Similarly, Willow didn't mind that any delusions of romance were fading out of Buffy's brain when it came to the broody vamp.

"All right, Slayer gave the orders. You want to get on the phone to Peaches or-" Spike's sentence derailed at the sound of three crisp, sharp raps on the door. He inhaled. "Shit. Forgot somethin' on your to-do list, Luv."

"Rupert?" An unwelcome voice invaded.

"Bloody hell," Giles cast a panicked look at his slayer, then at the man behind her. "Upstairs, go!" he urged Spike. Then turning back to the door, he shouted, "Coming, Travers!"

"But I-" Spike cast a torn look at Buffy and then the doorway that would soon allow in a stream of tweedy bastards with crossbows and (formerly well-founded) preconceptions. "Toodles." He legged it up the stairs and crouched beside Giles' bed, near enough to five under if needed, able to hear just fine through the open loft.

Buffy kept her arms folded and huddled back between her friends as Giles opened the doors. Travers came in, looking down his nose, nodding and smiling without his eyes joining in. Behind him there were four dark-suited men, all of whom looked more thuggish than bookish. Her head tilted as she sized them up. Was it her imagination, or was there something more… instinctive in her glances now? She felt herself sniffing in, as if some scent would magically give her information.

"Threat assessment."

Travers stopped short, hand extended, eyes momentarily betraying him, startled and wide. "Greetings to you, too, Ms. Summers."

Her chin jerked, hands stayed tucked under opposing elbows."Those four. They're here to put down threats. You're the one with information. Or power. Do you _actually_ have any information?"

The older man bristled. "That's no way to talk to the head of the Watcher's-"

"Save it. She quit," Xander reminded him, barely containing his glee under a hard mask.

"And I'm still fired. Forgive me if I don't fawn all over you," Giles added.

"Tell the goons to wait outside unless they have information they want to share." Buffy pushed past them, opening the door Giles had just closed. She saw two hands slip into breast pockets, a third head to its owners hip. "Seriously? I'm the_ Slayer_. I can take on four humans before my nails dry."

A triumphant cackle erupted from somewhere and Tara, Anya, and Xander were all suddenly seized by fits of hacking coughs. Willow muttered something and snapped her fingers behind her back.

"Go. Now. _Shoo_!" Buffy insisted.

The four men looked to Travers. He sighed, eyes heavenward in annoyance. "Very well. Remain within earshot."

As soon as they departed, Buffy demanded, "What can you tell me about Dracula? Where is he? How do I get him here?" _Wait. I don't really need to know that. We have a plan. Spell to hold him. Lure him here with the wedding. Hands, head and heart. Poof. I guess it can't hurt to hear what he says, have a back up plan._

"Ah, yes. It seems that you faced him to a draw. Failed to best him."

Buffy felt her eyes ignite, briefly worrying if they changed color as well as intensity. "Don't even. I'm the only Slayer in history to get close to killing him. I staked him in the heart, he dusted. He re-formed. Tell me how often that happens in your Average Joe vampires."

"Well, I-"

"Never. It happens _never_. So, let's stop putting me down and playing games. Do you have useful information?"

Travers' eyes had changed as well, hard and cold. Some men would see her directness as worthy of respect. He found it impudent, distasteful.

But she was right about one thing. Dracula was unlike other vampires and he was a source of public humiliation for the Watcher's Council. Centuries of one demon basking in attention, spouting secrets and misinformation in print, for heaven's sake! He'd created some base of misled groupies who thought vampires could turn into bats, wore capes and spoke with accents, romantically whisking you off for eternity in some damned castle. Meanwhile, hundreds died each year because they went somewhere alone with an "Average Joe" vampire who looked like any other human- until he decided to bite.

"Miss Summers. If you kill Dracula, permanently, that is, we will reinstate you and your Watcher. With pay," Quentin said simply, no emotion showing under his precise facade.

"Uh. I didn't get fired. I quit."

"Pay for_ both_ of you."

Buffy paused, mouth in mid-retort. _Oh. Pay. Pay for me to live on my own, set up a nice little apartment with Spike and do the happily marrieds thing. _

"No."

"What?" Travers' looked startled by her flat refusal.

Buffy, a word." Giles was similarly gobsmacked and made to grab her elbow.

"She means no. She means, why does she get paid _after _the fact?" Spike demanded from above, elbows leaning on the railings surrounding Giles' loft.

Travers' mouth opened to bellow for his goons, and again, Willow snapped her fingers and muttered something.

"Good point. I'm taking all the risk- and if I die, not like you're really going to hire me at that point. No. You pay me up front. Also, you pay my friends, per incidence. You expect me to take on a vampire that no one else can even come_ close_ to killing, deal with the run-of-the-mill Hellmouth stuff, pull off my annual apocalypse prevention,_ and _go to school?"

Travers seemed to be hardwired to argue with anyone who dared challenge him."Miss Summers, college is not-"

Spike cut him off with a growl, "Optional. She's smart. She's got a big brain under that pretty face. That's why she can do all the shit you ask her to do and she's still alive longer than the rest."

"Rupert, why is William the Bloody in your upper room?"

"He does nice hospital corners," Giles replied drily.

"I can see a valid concern about pay upon completion of the task," Travers unwillingly conceded.

"You mean the part where I take out the most famous vampire in history while saving the world, guarding the Hellmouth, and bringing up my miserable GPA? Which, by the way, would be less miserable if I'd had fewer Frankenstein wannabes to deal with_ last _year."

Travers felt himself slipping further into the unpleasant reality that this slayer faced. He prefered the boardroom to the battlefield these days. Distance was key. He never should have come here to pull this powerplay on her. "Very well. A salary commensurate with your workload-"

"Saving a billion lives for four years running?"

"A salary that is commensurate with your living expenses- and a hefty bonus when Dracula's death occurs."

"Now I'm listening."

"The Council cannot employ untrained civilians. This part about your little friends-"

"You mean this calling triad- and with my help, a Four Corners? These are extremely powerful, gifted witches," Giles spoke while gesturing to Anya, Tara, and Willow. "Dracula re-forms with the use of sorcery, he has thrall, he has transfigurative powers. How else do you expect Buffy to inhibit his magical abilities without use of magic herself?"

"The boy-"

"The Man. You bring your hired guns. She can bring hers." Xander pointed to the window. Outside, four hovering figures were smoking cigarettes in the courtyard.

"You're some sort of marksman?"

"Do you really want him to prove it?" Willow asked, voice low and stiff with power.

Travers looked at the red head. Willow's eyes flickered black in warning.

"I draw the line at the vampire."

"Then get out your eraser. Spike," Buffy spoke, and he landed neatly beside her, boots thudding, Travers taking a hasty step back to regain his balance. "Dracula bit me. Started to work his hold. Do you know how to end a hold?"

"Death of the vampire works nicely."

"How exactly does that work, then?" Spike asked in a snarky drawl. "Ever had someone try to place a claim on you? No? It's bloody difficult to fight against an ancient instinct that tells you you want to be close to that person, or that the person mustn't be harmed. Slayer already staked him after he started his mojo, because she's that strong. Still, Dracula's no ordinary vampire. He deals in thrall and getting into people's minds, even their dreams. Sometimes the best way to fight fire is with fire. Fight vampire with vampire. I broke his hold. She's a free agent now."

"Impossible. He's still alive. For you to break a hold, you'd have to usurp him in some other fashion. The only way you could have done that is to bite her yourself, meaning she's loyal to you, and you could control her. A vampire-controlled Slayer is-"

"Is still stronger than me." Spike looked at Buffy. He looked at the annoying bastard in front of him, the ring of people behind him. He turned his head slowly, eyes front once more. "I am hers."

"He is mine. Kindred." Fingertips twitched, itched to rub her neck.

Spike found he didn't mind his knees going to the ground. Kneeling beside her, eyes not leaving Travers' stunned face. "Loyal to her. Always. Forever."

Buffy felt something tug in her heart. Blood rush. Power rush.

And love. So much love and something crying out that it was true- but not like this. "My ally in everything." She took his hand and pulled him up, shoulder to shoulder. "We learned how to kill Dracula. There must be two warriors who move as one. They have to be- mentally connected. We're talking about way more than just having good timing. They move like one, because in a way, they are linked. This is… Spike is my other half. Take us both, take us all- or get the hell out of this house."

Travers blinked. His features reverted into cold disdain and his hand reached into his pocket. As they all tensed, he brought out his chequebook. "Very well. Let's discuss wages."

To be continued…

* * *

Thank you again, guys! Sales have been blowing up for S.C. Principale this week and I'm assuming it's you! I'm happy to say that the next book, _CrossRealms: You an' Me Against the World_ is still on track for a December release. I appreciate all the love and kindness.


	23. Part XXIII

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

**Part XXIII**

Buffy couldn't recall ever in her life having such- kindly?- feelings towards the pompous, typically unhelpful jerk in a suit. As he handed her a check for the month's pay (which had one more zero than she had expected), she almost smiled. _Almost._

"You're right to suspect magic is at his core. Tell me how you dispose of him."

"Not immediately. I'd feel better if you share your information first, Quentin," Giles said smoothly, pocketing his own check as he laid a warning hand on Buffy's shoulder.

Travers frowned, but he was in no mood to argue further. It was tiring to both his pride and his jet-lagged brain. "There is a spell that encases even the strongest immortals, but the book that contains it is extremely rare and one would have to have some very high or very low connections to obtain it. Obviously, at the Watcher's Council-"

"You have both?" Buffy allowed herself a saccharine smile.

Travers ignored her. "I believe it goes something along the lines of air like onyx, thick as tar… I don't remember, but it's in the-"

Willow held up the scaly-looking book Giles had procured earlier in the week. "Page 63?"

"Where did you get that?" Travers demanded, seizing the book.

"The internet is startlingly helpful." Giles polished his glasses.

* * *

Travers left. His goons never even made it back past the threshold. Every one of the Scoobies, even Spike, had folded up pieces of paper in hand, with varying sums scrawled on them. In Spike's case, the folded paper was a wad of American banknotes. Travers had apparently realized most vampires don't have checking accounts. Such payments were meted out for research sessions and practical hands-on assistance as vouched for by Giles and Buffy. The sneering head had wanted some sort of accountability prior to paying them, proof that they had helped and weren't bilking the Council.

Xander sorted that in a surprisingly blunt but effective way. "The world's still spinning? Not sucked into Hell? Not overrun with green Terminator guys? She did her job, we did ours."

Spike found himself feeling quite kindly toward Harris.

Up until the door slammed after Travers' tweedy backside and everyone collapsed onto the nearest piece of furniture.

Then- "How long?" Xander asked without looking at the new couple, Buffy perched on Spike's lap.

She didn't answer. "When I needed help after Dracula. And he helped me."

"Why'd you help her?" Anya looked curious, not accusatory or suspicious, as if she were merely waiting to hear a private opinion confirmed.

"Because I can't stand to see her beat," Spike said simply. "Always loved that about her- the fight in her, the resourcefulness, the way she never quits. The only Slayer I ever thought was the real thing, the legend. Couldn't wait to fight her. Can't wait to fight beside her." His head tilted toward hers and she glowed at him, cheeks lifting, eyes sparkling.

"Stop!" Giles preempted what was sure to be a passionate, lengthy kiss. "We're all very- erm- something- for you. But Travers, odious as he is, made a very valid point that we need to be prepared. While we have the basic knowledge, I-" Giles stopped speaking as someone pounded imperiously and impatiently on the door. "Dear Lord, what can he possibly want now?"

"I'll handle this," Buffy sprung from Spike's lap with a set jaw and stormed to the door. "Did you forget your other - Mom!"

"Who were you expecting?" Joyce demanded, pushing firmly past her child and into the house.

"Uh, my new-old boss. I'm hired again. With pay. Good pay! And benefits. Wait, I think I get benefits. Giles, do I-"

"We'll arrange something," Giles said hastily. "Hello, Joyce. How nice to see you." _Any other time but now. _

"Hello, Rupert. Willow, Xander, An- Spike! Spike's here, too?"

"Where else has he been?" Xander asked suspiciously.

"Where else would I be?" Spike asked rhetorically. "Slayer needs help, I'm the helpful sort."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, he is. He is now, Mom."

Spike raised his hand and then decided a Boy Scout salute wasn't quite the ticket and instead placed his hand over his heart. "Swear to it."

Joyce's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of Spike hovering so close to her child. "You carry my luggage upstairs when I get home from the airport, you're answering the phone for Buffy when she's not in the kitchen, you're doing the laundry in my basement, you're helping her move into the dorms._ Something_ is going on!"

"Damn," Xander swore softly and walked into the kitchen. "Giles! Beer?"

"Bottom shelf. Where the vegetables ought to be," the older man sighed. "Bring one for Joyce and I?"

"I will not be fobbed off with alcohol." Joyce shook her head.

"No one's fobbing. There's no fobbing. Am I using that word right?" Buffy asked Giles and Spike, who nodded, one sighing, one smirking.

"You should tell her, Buffy." Willow cleared her throat.

"Tell me what?" Joyce demanded.

"About how we need a vampire. Because only a vampire, a really skilled one, can match a Slayer in terms of strength and speed."

Anya caught on. "Oh, right! For the synchronized decapitation and staking. We actually do need him, Joyce."

"Someone start at the beginning and don't skip anything," Joyce plunked herself down firmly on the edge of the sofa and crossed her arms.

"See where you get it, Slayer. Did Travers ever meet your mum? She wouldn't have needed the ax, just the stoney face," Spike attempted to smile. The stoney face remained. Spike contemplated taking the beer Joyce had declined.

"I'll explain, Mom. I tried to do it a little at a time, but I… I can tell you everything now," Buffy placated.

* * *

She didn't tell her everything.

Buffy heard herself explaining the entire Dracula thing, followed by Riley's utter unhelpfulness and Angel's unwillingness, and the need for a vampire to not only cure her but to kick Dracula's undead ass more permanently into the "dead" category. She heard herself explaining how Angel couldn't take the part of the other warrior because they no longer had a close connection and how Riley, even if he hadn't been a huge jerk, would be unable to help because of his heart, not to mention how his paranoia was preventing Buffy from making headway with her own healing, let alone finishing off the Transylvanian menace.

"So, if I don't kill him- he'll always have a score to settle and he's _not_ a nice guy. He can be charming and intriguing, but underneath, he's a selfish bastard who likes total control. He thinks 'owning' a slayer would be his greatest achievement. I don't want to be owned, so Spike's fixing me and he and I are taking him out. End of story."

It wasn't the end of the story. Buffy felt smatterings of guilt for leaving her mother in the dark, but she shrugged them off. Dracula's hold and Spike's hold would seem the same to her mother, and she knew the tune her mother would sing if she found out that Buffy and Spike were anything approaching committed or married.

_You're in college._

_You're too young._

_He's a vampire._

_You're fooling yourself because of the spell or the bite or whatever voodoo this is._

She didn't want to lie, though, not more than was necessary. If her mother asked her anything specific-

"So, Spike is just helping you because you two are strengthening your connection, the connection you have to have in order to be cured and to kill Dracula?" Joyce asked, relief warring with suspicion.

"The more connected the merrier," Spike replied, a wide smile on his face, one that didn't reflect as deeply in his eyes.

"That's all it is?"

Buffy heard nervous rustling from her friends. They'd stayed quiet, but she could hear the tension in their thoughts as if they were broadcasting. They were used to lying. They were used to not liking her choice of partner, with Riley being an exception.

_He and I are eternal. Forever. Equal in loyalty. Spike knelt down next to me, the knight to his queen, because Travers sees Slayers as superior._

Buffy blinked as her mouth opened and her answer took a little too long to manifest._ Spike sees me as superior, too, because he always puts his lover first. _

_ But I don't… feel like that anymore._ _Not better than him. _Different_ than him. _"Not just that. When- when you let someone- when I let Spike help me," Buffy swallowed hard, reaching back to find Spike's hand, "I didn't expect to find so much of what I've been missing. Spike understands why Slayers die- because he's killed them, he sees what's killed them. He can help me stop it and no- don't ask me to explain all of it now. Spike's not just around me because he's helping me fight Dracula. He's helping me because he's my friend. He's my ally. He's my kindred." Buffy swallowed again, eyes very bright, voice almost gone. "And I love him for that, no matter what you say."

* * *

Joyce didn't say anything. Her anger and frustration kept peaking and ebbing before it overflowed out of her mouth and her snapping eyes. Spike looked shocked, grateful, awed- in love. He looked at her from behind Buffy's shoulder, helpless and pleading so eloquently without words.

_You can hate me, but not her.. Don't hurt her._ She read that look clear as day. She'd given it to Hank a thousand times, every argument where he slammed out of the house before Buffy's questioning eyes, every argumentative phone call that ended with him saying he'd just skip Buffy's visit that weekend.

"I don't understand." Joyce understood some things. Spike had not expected Buffy to claim she loved him. He was stunned, which meant he wasn't controlling her, wasn't orchestrating her words.

"And so say all of us," Xander muttered from behind his beer, but without any of the rancor he'd expected to feel. Spike looked utterly floored- but also grateful. Angel- idiot- had her love and didn't want it, not that he deserved it. Riley -also idiot- loved her and Buff didn't feel it. Buffy loved this peroxide nightmare, and he was grateful. Hell, Xander found himself feeling grateful towards the vampire. For a minute, he didn't even care about the fangs. Buffy needed help. He was helping.

"It's hard to hate someone who's saving your only child. Or best friend." Anya patted Joyce's shoulder comfortingly as she pushed past her to get the spellbook out of Tara's hands. "Maybe Mrs. Summers and Buffy need to go have an awkward conversation? A_ more _awkward conversation, because this was awkward, even for me, and I often hear that I'm extremely awkward." Anya perkily derailed the intense silence building in the room. "Giles, if you told Travers that we could perform a Four Corners and hold Dracula- a vampire who defies the laws of immortality- we have to practice."

"Uh. Yes. Yes. We should. Practice." Giles herded Tara and Willow in front of him and Anya tugged Xander's wrist.

"I'm not calling anything!" he protested.

"I'm sure there are spell ingredients. Come make lists."

"I don't want to intrude on the mojo -"

Anya pouted. "I barely do any magic these days. I was figuring I should start small with basic sex magick spells for endurance and extra pleasure but if you're not interested in helping me practice-"

"Move!" Xander dashed past Giles and scrambled to the cluttered desk. "I need a pen!"

* * *

"I'll clear off," Spike mumbled and began to back away from the tense stand-off between mother and daughter.

"Stay," Joyce's voice was flint.

"Mom, I don't think you need to understand every little detail right now. Let's stick with a big picture and add things later. Slowly. This Dracula thing is the biggest and -"

"You said you love Spike. _Spike_," Joyce repeated his name with a sour expression.

"It's William. William's fine, if you like that better. Don't have to be Spike if you don't like it," Spike muttered gruffly, shades of Romeo Montague rambling about in his brain. He shrugged and then worried that maybe such a gesture caused him to look too nonchalant about the amazing gift of having Buffy's love. He was saved from overthinking- a problem he hadn't encountered before trying to play nice with the Slayer and her merry little band- by Buffy's firm denial.

"No. It's both. Just like Buffy has a Slayer, Spike has a William. We have darkness, differently distilled, and we have light that we carry for each other. I love Spike. He is… he is my kindred one. The person who I understand and who understands me."

"I'm your own mother. I don't understand you?"

Guilt stabbed her repeatedly, but the wounds were covered in thick welted scars. Buffy's voice was soft, "We'll see. Do you understand how a girl who's fated to die young and alone would love to find someone dedicated to keeping her alive and surrounded by the people she loves? Do you understand how scared of myself I've become, how tired of this world I get sometimes, knowing how heavy all these 'lives in the balance' are? If a guy ever says he'll take half of that load- he only wants half of me. I love that Spike wants all of me and all the battles, too."

"No fun without the fight," Spike dared to put his arm around Buffy's waist. "I love her, too. I love her and I won't hurt her. Don't have to- don't have to worry that I'll take her away or muck about with her heart. She's holdin' onto me as much as I'm holdin' onto her."

Joyce looked at the couple- _No. Not a couple. The two of them. _ Serious eyes in beautiful faces, bodies pressed close, but neither player in the little drama seemed to dominate the other. Her baby girl looked confident. Happy. Peaceful.

She blurted, "You did hear that Riley has gone insane and thinks Giles is a vampire and you didn't forget Dracula-_ the_ Dracula is probably biding his time before attacking?"

Buffy blinked._ Great. I gave my mother hysterical amnesia. We were literally just saying that._ "Yes, I remembered all that. And I have to bug Angel for info, the gang needs some tricky spell, and Giles, Spike, and I talked Travers into giving me a salary, Mom! Actual paycheck-earning, money-having person, here!" Buffy grinned widely during the last sentence.

"Travers, too?" Joyce looked faint.

"Yep."

"You _still _look happy."

Buffy looked around. In the small flat, so many loved ones were contained. "I'm with my family."

A glimmer of hope ensconced firmly in denial wedged itself in Joyce's jet-lagged, overwrought brain.

Love. Like family. "Spike is … like family? You love him like family?"

Buffy felt him give a quick squeeze on her side, imperceptible to anyone not on the receiving end. "Kindred means you want to be in the same family," she struggled to keep her voice even as she answered.

Joyce's eyes were doubtful, disappointed, confused- but no belligerent words or questions poured from her tight lips. "Family?" she repeated.

_Husband and wife is the root of all families. WIthout husband and wife, there are no children, no grandchildren, no brothers or sisters… _Spike nudged his new bride to silence before they could send Joyce into shock. "Family is important to both of us."

"That's enough for you? You don't want more?" Joyce's eyes moved to his and held them there, daring him to lie.

He could tell the truth confidently. "Whatever she gives is enough for me. That's what it's like." _When you're in love…_

She nodded again. Denial turned up the volume. _They said they love each other. They didn't say in love. The love is about family, not romance. He won't push her for more. _

_Ha. I don't believe any of that. _

_I wonder if they do?_

"Buffy, can I talk to you alone?"

"Sure, Mom." Buffy's smile became fixed and tired.

Joyce regarded her for a second before shaking her head. That fixed, tired look. She'd seen it quite recently. Whenever Riley was mentioned in passing, just for the past two weeks. No wonder the break up wasn't terribly shocking. But the smile Buffy had when she stood close to Spike…

Radiant. Untroubled, despite literal worlds of trouble. "Never mind. It'll keep. What can I do to help with this Dracula situation?"

"You want to help?"

"Of course she does!" Spike said bracingly. "Your mum's a fighter, just like you."

"Well… I don't know what you can do. I'd actually like you to stay safe and not get hurt. I need information from Angel, but I'd rather handle him and I-"

"So Mom gets the shove?" Joyce smiled halfheartedly.

"It's like work, Mom. You can't expect me to look at all the pieces in your gallery and know how to price them. You wouldn't know what spell to perform and you couldn't take my place in a fight."

"Even though you swing a mean ax," Spike interjected.

"Stop trying to earn brownie points," Joyce snapped.

Spike fell silent, smirking slightly. He wasn't only trying to earn points, he meant it. He'd rather see Joyce riled than miserable, though.

"You're exhausted and you have to go back to the gallery tomorrow, right?"

"I do."

"If Riley calls again, can you get the number for him? We seriously need to talk."

"Oh, I have that," Joyce exclaimed, digging suddenly into her pocket. "In one of the first, coherent messages he left he said that if you call this number, they could patch you through."

Spike scowled. Joyce joined him.

"I guess I'll head out," Joyce sighed.

"I'd rather go with you, catch up on that cuppa and hear what pieces you bought," Spike sighed genuinely. "Slayer has to call not one piece of- uh-"

"Spike hates Angel. And Riley."

"Oh. We have something in common," Joyce gave him a tight little smile.

"Can we have that hot cocoa sometime soon?"

"I don't suppose you'll be walking Buffy home this evening?"

"Well… uh- Mom, we have to patrol. This is usually when the evil starts the upswing, right around the time the campus starts to get busy. Vamps. Dumb college kids. Drunk college kids."

"It's like a convenience store," Spike supplied. "Although, not me. I'm reformed. I'm strictly an animal man these days."

The tight smile softened. "That's good. So, you're saying you'll be home really late?"

"More like very early in the morning?" Buffy said with an apologetic wince.

"That's fine. Wake me up. Spike, if you're there, we'll have hot cocoa… and conversation," Joyce said the last word with a very deliberate undercurrent.

He nodded and swallowed. Big bad vamp, afraid of a tiny little thing in her forties.

Yeah, well. Most blokes are a little bit nervous around their mother-in-laws.

* * *

"Strictly animal?" Buffy whispered, pressing close to Spike as her mother left them standing in the stone-flagged courtyard, her car horn beeping once in farewell. "What about all the 'connecting' we're supposed to keep up?" She shifted her haid pointedly away from her covered throat, but the gesture was unmistakable. "The more the merrier, you said," she teased in a sultry whisper, grateful for a few minutes without an audience.

"I didn't tell a lie. You're my sex kitten, aren't you?" His own voice was equally amorous, sending wanton feelings down her spine and centering in her hips.

She agreed, voice coming out breathless, "You're my tiger."

"We're both strictly animal. Right now," Spike inhaled the scent of her, pressed close to him as tension they'd held for hours finally ebbed, "feels like we're in heat. Need to be buried in you." His hands coasted from her shoulders to her hips. "You take me so deep. Lose myself in you."

"Mm, find myself in you," Buffy ran her fingers across his neck and watched him shudder.

"Wanna ditch the witches and their assistant?" he offered, head jerking toward his car. Their car._ Hell, it's ours now. Bloody hell, everything is ours. _

_ She was right about the family. _

"So much. But also, no. Can't. Responsibility gal."

"In my day, they did mention the term 'wifely duties,'" Spike lured.

"Cooking and dealing with Victorian plumbing?" Buffy scooted out of his embrace before it tightened and finished her resolve.

"It was more about lying on your back with your sweet little hips wrapped around mine. And don't think it was all sexist. No, no. Failure to perform my husbandly responsibilities would be frowned upon as well."

"Breadwinning? Plumbing? Lawn care?" Buffy said each word slowly, framing it with her lips as she arched an eyebrow playfully.

He knew he was in irrevocably deep. The fact that he got hard from hearing her mention household chores… "Again, involving you on your back with me snug inside you."

"Just on my back?"

"You know us repressed Victorians," Spike's hands found her hips as they swiveled, trying to evade his grasp and failing this time. He brought her rear snugly to his hips and let her feel the impact of their conversation. "I'd try any position my wife wants. Some she's never even thought of…"

Shivers ran down at her spine at the implications, even though Buffy considered herself semi-knowledgeable about "positions" even if she'd never performed them. And then there were things she knew she'd never done, and couldn't wait to try them. She'd try anything with Spike, at least once, because he made it so good.

Thinking about how good was making her wet, making him sniff hungrily, and both of them throb. No phone calls were made. "After this, we'll go home and do anything you want,' Buffy promised herself as well as her salivating groom.

"That's a rash promise."

"Not with you." She led him back toward the door.

He puffed with the confidence she put in him. But one thing rang slightly off. "Home?"

"Yeah. It's like family?" She looked back over her shoulder as her hand was on the knob. "The place where you are."

_To be continued…_

_Coming next- two phone calls and a whole lot of spuffy smoochies, with the potential for a Wes and Daniela scene, but that might be in a few chapters._

End Note:

So, inspired by many people who reached out on Spuffy fansites and said kind things (a lovely big shout out to Ardynn), I started an account on a certain site to support my writing addiction. There's sneak peeks and shorts from the S.C. Principale's CrossRealms universe and fanworks, too. I would be honored if you check it out on Pat-reon (Fanfic won't let me put the work in without a hyphen), looking under the name scprincipale. Or go to: _patr- eon scprincipale (obviously take out the spaces and hyphens, etc. _

Or if you're going, "What? There's more smut? Vampire-y smut? Mushy smut with plot?" Look for S.C. Principale on Amazon.


	24. Part XXIV

Kindred

By Sweetprincipale

_Set in early Season Five. When Dracula called Buffy 'kindred'', he was doing a bit more than just saying they had a lot in common. Hungry for knowledge of herself and her power, Buffy didn't realize what kind of connection he had forged with her until he left town, and the damage was done. Hoping to break his hold over her, Buffy requests help from Spike. However, the way you break the hold of one vampire is to let another one possess you more fully. But, it'll only be temporary, right? Simple business, that's all…_

**Part XXIV**

"We're going to have to go to the magic shop for the wolfsbane."

"They're closed by now." Tara glanced at the clock.

"Oh. Dash it, I suppose we're not. Still, it's been a long, emotionally draining day-"

"And no one had dinner. The mortal form gets irritable when it's hungry. Or horny. Xander and I need to practice. And eat." Anya spoke complacently and turned to Willow and Tara as well. "You ought to practice too. Or you could join us."

Xander, Willow, and Tara made a variety of pained, shocked noises. "I meant for dinner," Anya rolled her eyes. "And Giles, too. Again, talking about the dinner. I don't share. Talking about Xander, not the dinner."

"Oh dear Lord." Giles walked off, rubbing his ever-multiplying forehead creases. "You've made that abundantly clear. And horrifying to contemplate. I believe I'll stay in and sleep. A clear head is essential as well as any other- hrm- type of practicing."

"We'll clear off as soon as we make a couple calls," Buffy addressed the group that was splitting up. "Spike and I can take a quick patrol on the way back to Mom's house. Spike promised her we'd catch up before bed."

"Another horrifying to contemplate thought," Xander muttered to Giles out the side of his mouth. Spike, heard it (naturally).

"Joyce's had a long day and coast-to-coast flight. She needs her sleep," Spike said evenly. "Only reason Slayer doesn't call from her place is because Joyce hates Angel and isn't dead keen on the psychotic soldier boy just now, either."

"The cheek of him. Thinking I was a vampire," Giles said with disgust.

"Oi," Spike shot him a dirty look.

"Present company excluded. I suppose," he amended, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Uh, guys?" Buffy pointed to the receiver in her hand. "Actually wanting to_ make_ the phone call. Do you want to stand around quietly or go do the other fun-filled activities you mentioned?"

"Love you, Buffy, bye!" Willow hugged her best friend quickly and then pulled Tara along behind her, both of them suddenly sharing flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Dinner can be ordered in. After?" Anya hissed to Xander in a completely indiscreet whisper.

Spike chuckled faintly as he moved out of the sudden steamroller that was Demon Gal and her boy toy.

Giles looked at the couple remaining. Hm. He supposed couple was the right word, even if he wished to avoid it. "They shouldn't take long, these calls?"

"I don't have much to say to either of them," Buffy admitted, pangs of guilt poking her, then nudged aside by the thoughts of what she had instead. Her face clouded. "I guess Riley's conversation is going to be pretty suck-tacular. I thought we did such a good job, with the secret spell oath-thingy…"

"You didn't have your mum complete the oath, Slayer. And even if she had, Secret Agent Man would've run and tattled on me anyway. If the Commando had a brain in his oversized head, he'd have realized the 'older British vampire' was me, not the Watcher."

"Hey! He had major heart surgery and he was on a ton of steroids and meds! Riley wasn't thinking clearly."

"I knew that from the second he wanted you to suffer for Dracula's mistakes because he wasn't in possession of a set of fangs." Spike grimaced. Buffy glared. "And he sent a man to tail you. Lucky all he ended up with was misinformation, not a friend on the injured list. What bloody fool sends a poor defenseless human to tail a Slayer 'round dark cemeteries?"

Buffy's glare changed to a half-grin, reluctantly given. "You're right. If I'd thought it was human trying to do anything else to me… Agent Brown would be Agent Brown Trousers."

Giles guffawed and then wheezed himself into the kitchen. "Dear God. Brown Trousers. This is proof I'm terribly overtired and strained."

"You need tea. Lots of sugar. Want me to make it for you?" Spike offered, not quite meeting his eye.

"No, no. Heaven only knows why, but I think I could use a minute alone," Giles hinted.

Buffy began punching numbers in on the phone. "Two calls. Quick as I can make them."

"If they're_ not _quick, at least they'll be entertaining." Spike smirked and sprawled out in Giles' desk chair, arms behind his head, hips forward, the picture of impudent glee at another's expense.

Considering whose expense it was, Giles decided he might just hurry through making a proper pot of tea and omelett to catch the show.

* * *

"Buffy!" Angel's voice rippled with relief. "Oh, thank God. The way they were talking, I figured y-"

"I'm okay, for now. Thanks for getting that information from the Countess."

Angel stared at the phone, frowning. Her tone was so brusque, so business-like. Pain filled his eyes and he cleared his throat before saying softly, "Of course. I promised you I'd take care of it. You know if there was any way I could undo what Dracula did to you, I'd do it."

Buffy looked at the phone, perplexed. Angel's voice used to cause such pain and longing in her, even when she was furious at him. It didn't this time. What's more, she clearly recognized this voice as his "heartbroken, self-sacrificing, noble, "Do what's best for Buffy" voice.

She believed he felt that way. The thing was, now _she_ felt like it was a crock of bull and she had the urge to snap at him for playing a lovelorn hero when her husband-_ husband!_\- was the one getting his hands dirty, helping her, really doing things with her and for her that were for her actual good. "Thanks, Angel," Buffy pressed forward, smothering a sigh. "I was wondering if you could do some follow up for me."

"Absolutely, anything."

She bit her lip to keep from letting out a mini screech of frustration. Again, the heartbroken, placating tone. _No, "anything" would have meant you were there when I asked you- but then I wouldn't have found Spike. _She tried, briefly, to imagine what it would have been like being Angel's wife in the eternal, vampiric sense of the word.

She shuddered. She couldn't imagine the depth of joy or trust. Her husband could switch to evil sadist to repentant monk on the turn of a mattress. No laughter. No hot sex, either, it would nonexistent, or if by some miracle they ever could, it would all be serious and awkward and- she had to go hug Spike now, immediately. "Just a sec."

Spike had shifted position on the chair, now moodily looking at the Latin version of the spell that Buffy'd first used with him, the one he thought of simply as the "numbing" spell. He knew she had to talk to Angel. He just happened to hate the thought of any other bloke's hands or lips or bits near his precious one, his kindred one, was enough to make his irises go golden and the muscles in his neck jump in possessive anger.

He wasn't prepared for the object of his thoughts to plant herself in his arms with a resounding kiss that literally made his toes curl in his boots and his jeans constrict painfully. "What was that for?" he gasped.

"Because I'm so, so, _so _glad your mine and I'm yours and I don't ever wanna be anyone else's. Especially not broody heart-on-a-stake types who help on their terms, not mine. Gotta go. Remember where we left off."

"Bloody well bookmarked," Spike watched her saunter off. Was it just his imagination, or did she seem to slink more now? Temptress.

_But my girl always delivers._

* * *

Angel jumped when Buffy's voice returned to his ear, sounding a little breathless. A little… dare he say aroused? Buffy pining for him was a painful thought.

His body shouldn't like it so much.

"Where were we?"

He licked his suddenly dry lips. "Well. I-uh- said I'd do anything you needed me to do." Except the thing he most wanted. "But, Buffy, we can never-"

She let out a completely inappropriate yip of laughter at the path she suspected he was taking. "Nothing like that! Geez, I'm _so _not looking for that." Realizing that sound heartless, shegentled her tone, "I know we can't. It's okay, Angel. Neither of us want that, we've both moved on."

Wait, what? "That soldier, Finn? He can't be the second warrior, Buffy. A human couldn't-"

"Angel, why don't you just let _me_ tell _you_ what I want? I've moved on from Riley, too. No, I need something much more practical. I know you interviewed the Countess Elena- Maria- Daniela- something long," Buffy gestured to the ceiling as if trying to pull the cumbersome name out of the air. "The Ex-Mrs. Drac. You let her go, right?"

"She's safe at home. Why? Is she making trouble? Dammit! I knew I should have killed her!" Angel's sudden explosive tone was accompanied by him hurling the nearest thing to hand at the wall. It happened to be the desk organizer that Cordelia had bought to replace the pen cup he'd swiped earlier. That's just great, he thought bitterly, cradling the phone as he gathered up pens. Wesley, attracted by the noise, reappeared, eyebrows arched.

"Kill someone?"

"Your little friend."

"Hey! Conclusion pole-vaulting has been cancelled on tonight's sportscast. I'm happy you didn't kill her! For God's sake, Angel, she was enslaved and mind-fucked by Dracula for how many centuries? A lot. And it sounds like she finally got out from under him and she's not letting what he did ruin her. Giles and the girls were saying that she is a vampire without a soul, but she doesn't kill."

"Yeah, that's what she says."

"That's what she is," Wesley interjected hotly. "Everything she told us was borne out by what I saw in her home."

"You were gone long enough." Angel shot him an exasperated look. "Her home, huh? Did she give you the grand tour?"

"As a matter of fact, I did get to see some very fine antiques."_ In her bedroom and her office suite. I won't mention the precise location. Nothing untoward happened. _

"Is that Wesley?"

"It is."

"He thinks the Countess isn't evil?"

"He didn't say that."

"I believe she has the capacity for evil, like any human," Wesley said softly. A smile played briefly on his lips as he recalled her definition of evil. Financial manipulation, an unorthodox attitude toward fidelity. All done with such elegance.

"But she's not human," Angel was quick to point out.

"The fact that she lives as one and has human friends and lovers makes her seem more like one. She is a vampire who doesn't harm."

"That's what I wanted to know. But anyone could put on a good show for a couple days, even years. Is there any way you can tell me how long she's lived like this? Is there any kind of proof that she's living a clean, killing-free life?"

Wesley's eager burble penetrated the conversation. "I am certainly willing to vouch for her- as far as I know her from my research and brief encounter," he added hastily, "but I'll gladly return to do any needed reconnaissance. Although, I'd prefer to do it _without_ the use of portals. That much magic is taxing and I'm not sure I'd be able to do it again soon. When do you need the information? Maybe I could take a long weekend in Paris."_ A weekend in Paris with Daniela. Maybe the sky would be overcast and we could walk along a street in the rain and- hrm._ He blushed under Angel's sudden scrutiny.

Angel's tone was suspicious, bordering on angry."How are you going to -"

Afraid of the end of the sentence, Wesley raised his voice over that of his employer, "She gave me her number. Let me see when there's a good date. Maybe she could come over here and- no. No," he looked at Angel. "Never mind. I shall definitely go over there."

Angel threw Welsey an annoyed look that shifted to hurt. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'll go make the call. I'll ask if she can make it as soon as possible, Buffy," Welsey ignored Angel's question and spoke into the phone.

"Thanks, Wesley. The Council is footing the bill for things related to the final end of Dracula. Let me know what plane tickets cost and we'll pay you back."

"Wait, wait- Wes?" Wesley left the room, fingers digging in his pocket for a piece of paper and his phone. "Buffy, why do you need to know? The information is solid, considering how it was obtained."

She hesitated, "Y'know. Just… general trustworthiness, that's all."

Angel liked to think he knew Buffy well, better than anyone else. She brought out something in him that no one else brought out and he believed he did the same. Or used to. Her tone just now prickled the liar in him, the deceiver who can hear the false notes in another's story. "Trustworthiness? In a demon? In a _vamp_? No such thing. But it was a truth spell. Whatever she said about Dracula checked out according to that spell, even if she was unwilling to talk."

"Wanted to beat it out of her, did you?" Spike muttered.

Angel's keen hearing caught the noise, but it was faint. "Did you say something?" he asked, knowing full well she hadn't.

"No, but I was about to. Just do something for me without wanting to know every detail. You used to be all about the cryptic. No cryptic this time, just facts and details. No opinions. I need to know."

"But why do you-"

" It'll make my life easier. Okay?" Buffy's voice raised slightly.

Angel's eyes narrowed. "It'll make your life easier to know how a vampire ex of your ex is living the high life in Paris?"

She wanted to smack the condescending tone out of his vocal cords. With a throat punch. With a bowling ball. Or cannon ball. And ex? _EX?_ "Yes." She bit off the word.

"Angel, surely you owe Buffy any number of favors, and it's in a good cause," Wesley hissed.

The brunette tuned his voice out in favor of replaying another's. Giles' soft, deliberate voice that let him make no mistakes. _She has whom she needs._ "Are you seeing -someone else? A vampire? Buffy, you can't trust vampires."

Spike let the paper flutter back to the desk, rising as her spine stiffened. The oath that they took prevented them from saying that he was helping Buffy. It didn't prevent people from guessing.

Buffy apparently was too angry to care whether or not she dropped clues for the suspicious man on the other end of the call. "That's true. Not most of them. You're right. You have to know them. Get inside their heads. Find out what they love."

"They _can't_ love without a soul."

Before she could even think better of it, the words were streaming from her mouth, hot and angry and oh,_ so good_, held in for far too long, "No, _you_ just like to tell yourself that! You tell yourself that so you can be okay with all the crap you did to me without one. You tell yourself that so you never have to admit that you hurt people and take responsibility for it, even now that you're 'fixed' with that soul. You say it so you never have to admit that you hurt him and took what _he_ loved. You don't want to believe he could be what you aren't," Buffy concluded, rage in her eyes dimming when she saw the startled shock in Spike's eyes turn to something else, something undefinable for the moment.

Wesley and Angel paused, both too stunned by the passionate tirade to move or speak. Finally, Angel's disbelieving voice managed to scrape out, "Who are you- Is it Spike? Buffy, are you talking about Spike? You're not stupid enough to trust Spike, are you?" He sat down heavily on the edge of the desk, shaking his head as information and confusion crowded it.

Heat left. Ice entered. "Don't ever call me stupid again. Hand the phone to Wesley. He's a human who sounds like he's friends with a soulless evil kind of vampire."

"You can't be serious."

"Maybe that's what I'm into. Even you loved something without a soul. Pain. Fear. Torture. Don't tell me you can't love without a soul. You just loved something bad. He loves something good. Now, again, put Wesley on the phone."

Wesley took the phone when Angel seemed unable to uncurl his fingers from it. "Hello, Buffy?" he asked tentatively.

"You met her. What's she like? Honestly. If she's evil and just doesn't murder because she doesn't want to get killed, fine. If she's knitting hats for kittens or something like that, fine. But tell me the truth."

"She's… captivating. Intelligent, good taste in music and art, principled, I would say. She fully admits she's evil, in terms of taking a number of lovers that would be scandalous back in her time, or perhaps even our own. Oh, and she's perfectly willing to have one of her said lovers do a bit of financial manipulation when it comes to sales at her favorite stores."

"Dangerous?"

"Anyone with enough wit and skill to survive for over four centuries is dangerous, Buffy."

Buffy smiled at her motionless groom, now backed by Giles, whisking eggs with a tea towel over his shoulder. Spike was certainly dangerous. To his enemies. To her enemies. "What do you think she is?"

"Is?"

"Evil, dangerous in the 'kill you' way, neutral, a real harmless sweetheart… I don't know. "

Wesley opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped. He looked at the man whom he considered his friend. A horrible, evil creature, a very flawed being trying hard to separate the two halves- and blinding himself to the folly of the idea that it could ever really be so. "She is a person with a demon. I don't feel- when I'm with her- that I'm talking to someone evil or harmful. I don't know much about her, but the remarkable thing is that I- I would genuinely like to see her again and find out," he admitted softly. "Depths, Buffy."

"Depths. Good. You'll talk to me after you talk to her?"

"I will. Why do you-"

It really didn't matter to her. It mattered to her mother. It mattered to her friends. It would make Xander feel better, but it wouldn't change a thing. "It doesn't actually matter to me," Buffy whispered, shrugging. "I thought it might be good to know. See that there are people who have demons, not just demons who have a people suit. If you don't want to do all this-"

"I would contact Daniela whether you needed me to or not," Wesley admitted, trying not to blush.

Buffy smiled at the bashfulness in his voice."Night, Wesley. Thanks. Oh, tell Angel I said goodbye." She put the phone down with a click.

Giles watched Spike hold out his hand to her and she grasped it automatically. "Thanks," the platinum blonde said thickly.

"Dear me, these eggs will turn into meringues in a minute." Giles looked at the bowl of froth he was now holding. "I'd uh- best clear off to the kitchen."

It was Buffy's turn to whisper her gratitude as Spike pulled her into his arms.

* * *

"She said goodbye," Wesley informed Angel, hiding awkwardness with a cough.

He'd heard. It felt very final. It had no trace of longing. It had no trace of … _them_.

_She's moved on. _

_Not to a normal guy. Not to Dracula._

_To Spike. _Spike.

"You'd better go. Make your phone call," Angel told him hollowly. "You want privacy? I can leave."

"I'll use my own phone. Thank you. Are you sure you don't want me to stay for a bit?"

"No. Go."

"You don't seem-"

"I don't seem angry? Tearful? Miserable because the only person I've ever loved, the woman I can't have because I would kill her without a soul- is- is _dating_ a murdering, soulless demon who I know is a thousand times _worse_ than me?" Angel's voice began to desk organizer was in danger of taking another high velocity trip across the room.

Wesley made a hasty retreat to the door, but stayed inside the office, hand on the frame. "A thousand times worse?"

"He's weaker than me. Always-" he trailed off with a clenched jaw, gritting his teeth, fist curled into hammers ready to swing.

"He came to Buffy, you know. To help defeat you. To help save Drusilla and the world. He saved Giles' life before you could finish him. Did you know that? That Spike was the one who came to Buffy to stop you from opening Acathla's portal?"

"Wes, this is not the time to remind me of how-"

"This is actually probably quite a good time to remind you that Spike is evil, but has certain soft spots that prompt him to act for the good."

"Yeah, fear."

"Love."

"Can't love without a -"

"I hope you're wrong," Wesley's voice was equal in force, eyes unflinching as Angel's seared his. Thoughts of a beautiful, clever face imprinted on his mind. He could concentrate and nearly feel her pale hand pressed to his, wrist bruised but still graceful as the rest of her. "I hope you're wrong."

* * *

"No one's ever stood up for me to him. Never before. Not even Drusilla. She did whatever he said, even if it near killed me." He pressed his lips to her hair, a phantom heartbeat thundering in his chest, eyes blinking back tears that he couldn't quite place.

"_You_ stood up to him." Buffy rubbed his back, head under his, feeling waves of sadness mixed with something else flooding from him. Maybe it would flood out and remain gone.

"I had to. Never had anyone else in my corner. Now," he pulled back and looked down at her, finding her own lashes dewy, "now I've got the best warrior in the world."

"Perfectly in tune, remember? That means both of us are the best," Buffy beamed and swiftly kissed his lips. "I'll always stand up for you."

"I'll always kneel before you."

_Stupid smart poetic mouth. Sexy mouth. Talented mouth accompanied by kneeling. _"Oh God, don't. I'll want to take you upstairs and Giles might literally have a heart attack."

Irreverent as it felt to trod on a wonderful moment, the mention of heart attacks made them both sigh and look heavily at the phone.

"I'll call him." Buffy sighed.

* * *

"Could I speak to Riley Finn? Um. I got this number to be 'patched through', however that works. This is Buffy Summers."

"I'll connect you to Agent Finn."

"They'll connect me," Buffy informed Giles and Spike, one of whom was looking at her through steamed up lenses as he sipped piping hot tea.

"You sure you don't need a cup?" Giles watched Spike's jaw flex.

"I could use a bourbon," Spike muttered darkly.

"I could put it in a teacup?" Giles offered, eyebrow rising rakishly.

Spike's face lifted momentarily. "Would you?"

"Be right back."

Buffy sighed as repetitive music flitted through the receiver. _This is going to suck. So much suck. Maybe I should be grateful to Mom for making it more clear to him that I'm done. _

_ Although, he thought Giles was a vampire. Still thinks that, knowing how stubborn he is. So we're going to have to revisit that "clear" thing. _

"Buffy!" Riley's voice was a cocktail that plunged straight into her heart. Relief, rage, joy, frustration all in one word.

_Shit. He loves me. Not the actual me, but some made up perfect version of me. I don't want to hurt that guy, the nice guy in love._ "Riley! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm sorry I didn't call back right away, Mom just gave me the number." Relief was evident in her voice as well. "How are you feeling? When do they think you'll be out?"

Spike drained the bourbon in the cup that Giles handed him. It stung on the way down, but it dulled the throbbing in his head as he listened to her speak sweetly to the wanker who'd be itching to get out and murder him.

"It went fine. I'm doing great, out in no time," Riley told half-truths with an ease he'd never felt._ He _believed he was fine. The upped doses of sedative, beta-blockers, and the move to an isolated room said otherwise. Apparently, his rage-induced arrhythmia was not taken lightly by the staff. "How are you?"

"Better. I got some help from Angel and the Council. We're going to-"

"What kind of help?"

She ignored the suspicion in his voice. "Solid information on how to hold Dracula in place, for one thing."

"Are you sure you should be telling him all this?" Giles stage whispered.

Riley didn't catch the words, but he caught the inflection, a hint of noise that wasn't hers. "Who's that? Is that Giles? Spike?"

"Giles is right here. Mom told me you thought he was a recent addition to the living dead community. Nope. Just normal British pastiness."

"He could be controlling you. Making you say that."

"Giles, go pick up a cross for me?"

Giles rolled his eyes and grabbed one out of weapons' chest, making Spike step back hastily. "Still very much human."

"Not a vamp. No unpleasant singeing when coming into contact with holy items."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

Buffy looked at the phone, startled by his outright accusation. "You don't, Riley. You'd have to trust me. Which I can see you don't."

"You haven't given me a lot of reason to. Hanging out with Spike? Brown told me. Your own mother told me!"

"You wanted me to wait for you to get better, meaning I'd just get worse. I didn't want to wait. Riley, we're very different in terms of how we handle issues. You could pretend to be okay with it until it was me, my neck on the line."

"That's not true, Buffy. I've never been okay with the way you handle things when it comes to you. You act like you're some-"

"Slayer. Chosen One. Incredibly powerful badass who also likes fashionable yet affordable shoes, pink nail polish, and trendy purses that conceal a wide array of weaponry."

Spike looked lovestruck. He didn't even bother to hide the sappiness in his tone as he turned to Giles. "She's the whole bloody package, int she?"

The graying man sighed. He had to admit that she was, and had to admit that he was relieved someone- even someone as normally undesirable as Spike- finally had the brains to realize it. "She is indeed."

Again, Riley heard the tones, not the words. Sweet. Lustful. Awed. Something coiled in his stomach. "They both want you."

"Huh?" Buffy was legitimately confused by that one. "Both want me to what? Both of who? Whom? Giles, who or whom?"

"Giles! Spike. The vampires and the Watchers, they all want a piece of the Slayer, her head or her heart or what's in her pants!" he spat. His monitor beeped warningly. The numbers on the screen went up, as well as a sharp incline on his heart rate read out.

Her mouth twisted and gaped for a second, unable to figure out a response at first. Then- "No. They want all the pieces of me to be together, whole. At least the Watcher and the vampire you're talking about. They both get that I have brains, think for myself. I have a heart, afraid to fall in love, and then can't figure out how to stop. As for the pants- well, both of these guys have shown some Class A approval of my ass-kicking skills. They don't just want what's between my legs, they like how I use them. And you did, too. Once. Now… You're too busy trying to keep me the way you want me to let me be what I am. It scares you, maybe. Makes you jealous, maybe?" her voice was strong, but gentle. _Maybe he doesn't even realize how he sounds, how he's acting. Denial's like a virus in Sunnydale._

"I'm not!" he hissed. "You're the one who can't see what you-"

"I see fine. You don't have to like the picture, but _I'm _okay with it."

"And as long as the great Buffy Summers is okay with it, to hell with the rest of us!"

Her smile was sad, voice still soft. "No, Riley. Just to hell with this. With me trying to do the right thing for you. It's not the right thing for me. I asked you to let me go. Did you remember that?"

He swallowed now, around the denial. "I wasn't sure that you meant… what did you mean?"

Compassion made an abrupt departure. _He's going to make me spell it out. I hate him so much right now. _

_Probably a good thing._ "I want you to let me go. It's not working out. It's done. Over. This is a break up. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. I didn't want to- I didn't want to believe it wouldn't work. I wanted to think I could be enough for you, enough normal girl. I'm not. And… when I'm with the right person," Buffy's eyes lit upon Spike, "I don't feel like that. I feel like I'm enough. More than enough."

The thoughts that had been spiraling turned into a full-on whirlpool. Riley felt himself being dragged under a wave of genuine sadness, only to find it quickly chased by rage and loathing. "You're leaving me for one of _them_. It would have worked. It would have worked! You didn't give us a chance, didn't give _me_ a chance because you- you _want_ them, now, a sick addiction. You're becoming like them! He's twisting you, they're_ all_ twisting you, Buffy!"

She held the phone away from her ear under the sudden onslaught. The thought flitted through her mind. The bite started this chain, feeling like she was lost in a fog, then hyper, buzzing and high. The more she and Spike connected, the deeper the bond grew… she couldn't deny that she felt closer to him than any other person she'd ever mre, even in a very short time. It was not just because of the bites, and there was no control over her. But twisting, yes, twisting.

_Someone turning me to help me see my true reflection, a twist to show the dark under the light and the light waiting in the dark. _Twisting the key in the lock, deathwish opened, secrets sprung free, out to be battled, not to take her prisoner. "I don't want to be anyone but me," Buffy said softly after his ragged shouting had abated. "Whoever that is. She's not the one for you."

"He's taking you over!"

"No, Riley. I'm just over you." She hung up suddenly, decisively, breathing hard. She looked up, to see Giles' proud face and Spike's lovestruck one. "Okay. Phone calls made."

"Well done, Buffy." Giles patted her shoulder. He didn't say how sorry he was, say how hard it must've been. He'd leave that for the other one, his unlikely ally in looking after her.

Spike beamed. "That's my girl."

"Yours."

"Yours."

He watched them put foreheads together, eyes closed, inhaling the nearness of each other. Something very deep connected these two, beyond a surface need, beyond some sort of affection or claim on each other. He felt like an intruder in his own home. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Buffy nodded, pulling free of Spike long enough to hug Giles in passing and gather her things. "Meet up tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. With both of you, naturally."

Her melancholy seriousness diminished, bright smile returning. "Absolutely.

* * *

"You absolutely can't be signed out against medical advice."

The patient struggled to sit up and look more intimidating. He failed, dizziness assailing him."I checked the patient's bill of-"

"That doesn't go for military installations, Finn. If you tried to go now, you'd end up back in here, after a trip through the ER. I don't know if you got so used to the drugs they pumped into you or what, Son, but you're not some superhuman hero." The doctor told the pale man firmly, refusing the agent's request. "You don't look well enough to walk down the stairs, let alone take care of yourself." The man was sweating, color uneven and heading toward gray. "You need to take it easy. Look, in a few days, your parents will be here to look after you. Why don't you see if they can come up sooner? You'll be here for a few days, but after that, you can recuperate with them."

"I can leave in a few days?"

"If you improve. Stop scaring all the nurses on this floor," the doctor said sternly. "That is, if you know there's someone to take care of you for the first couple weeks." The man didn't respond. He blinked dully, and then his eyes seemed to focus, face grim.

"What, doc?"

"If you have someone to take care of you, we'll-"

"Someone to take care of. Got it."

The doctor left, and he closed his eyes. They wouldn't stay shut.

_Get you free of them. Disinfect you, somehow. Kill them all, all the ones around you, twisting you, biting you, tainting you._ A carousel of faces swarmed around him, Angel, Dracula, Spike, Giles, back to Angel, back to Spike. Lots of people to take care of, and then, the girl herself. He could fix her.

He had to. He gave up the mission for her. She was the mission. He didn't fail at those.

* * *

"You called!" Daniela's voice purred with delight, a girlish sound Wesley found charming and confusing. No one so very old should sound so young. The conundrum of such youthful beauty in so old a form should repel him, not draw him along so easily.

"I'm so sorry to trouble you."

"I had hoped you would call, Sorcerer," Daniela chuckled. "I was not lying when I said I was curious about Wesley. Have you decided to satisfy me?"

Unbidden images of various forms of satisfaction caressed his inner eye and he blinked them away hastily. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to satisfy me, actually."

Her little laugh dipped low and nudged parts of him that stirred, even as he blushed. "I prefer it to be mutual, but I suppose I could reward my gallant escort before he returns the favor."

"My curiosity!" Wesley cried, cheeks reddening all the more. "I have a friend who- who has a friend who is a vampire. He doesn't harm. He drinks animal blood from the butcher's, he assists her with- with certain things. She was curious about how you live."

"Quite nicely for a single woman with a very large house in a very inflated economy," Daniela said complacently. "She should be wary of him."

"There are circumstances in place that prevent him from-"

"Not wary that he will harm her. Wary is perhaps the wrong word. Careful? Do they not mean the same in English?"

"They do, although there are shades of meaning. What should she be wary of, careful of?"

"Taking a vampire as a lover. It's hard to be content with normal humans after. Especially if he should indulge her in biting."

"Shouldn't that be if she indulges him?"

"The pleasure is beyond what any other physical act can… I'm sorry. I presume much. She is only his friend?"

"That is not entirely known to me. But, I was hoping that I could pester you with a few questions, observe you for a day or two. Oh, not that you're some specimen to be observed!"

She only laughed at his stumbling efforts to correct his faux pas."This weekend? Tomorrow, even? You will be my guest?"

"I- yes. I'd love to. I just need to find a convenient flight and I'll-"

"Have you heard of Dassault?"

"The salt?"

"Dassault Aviation. One of their private jets has released a prototype. Mach .90."

"That's fascinating, and I would love to rush over, but I hardly think I could arrange a private jet."

"Oh, no, Sorcerer. Stock maneuvering. I did very well in a buy in, and I have use of the company jet until it's officially released. Shall I send a jet?"

His head spun. _Do not be lured by the dangerously beautiful vampire. With money and taste and charm and- everything else. _ "I don't want to trouble you."

The confident voice shrank slightly. "I have not had someone I wanted to see this badly in a very long time." It stiffened again. "Pardon me. My forwardness, it's not becoming."

He'd said it before around her. He said it in his head then, he said it now, with a different meaning. _What the hell? Tell her the bloody truth, man._ "I was thrilled for an excuse to call you. I just know I'm a very ordinary person, so the extravagance is unfamiliar."

"I can promise a quiet weekend at home with good wine and good music, if that suits you better?"

"It sounds delightful. With some questions and research, of course."

"Of course. Will it be… hands-on, this research?"

Hands could go roaming in that blue-black hair, over that alabaster skin and those perfectly shaped lips. Hands could wander farther. "Possibly," he croaked. _Oh dammit. How very manly. She'll think she's got the frog, not the prince at this rate. _

Her laughter mixed with the sound of crystal clinking and tickled him and nudged him and made him smile in spite of himself. "Well then. To possibilities."

He envisioned her raising a glass to her coyly smiling lips, and he didn't care if the dark fluid he imagined was blood or wine- and that ought to terrify him. It didn't. _What must it be like to - to care for someone so much that life and death, demons and goodness, are mere trivialities? _ "To finding out."

_To be continued…_

_Up next, Honeymoon at Home ;) Sorry I couldn't fit it into this chapter, it was already so long._

Hi Fan Family- I have notes at the bottom of this chapter's draft that Vampire in Vegas and Vampire in Vegas: Quartet by S.C. Principale are on Amazon... but I think I already mentioned that a while ago? Anyway, it's a spooky, sexy time of year, so if you're looking for something short, sweet, and smutty, go check it out. You can enjoy before the third novelette comes out in December! (Maybe that's why I have that note?) (Oh, and the first book is up over on my Patr-eon under SCprincipale.)

Can you tell I need sleep?

Stay safe and sane, everyone!

Sweet


End file.
